Illicit Allure
by EternalOphelia
Summary: THE ENDHGDMHermione has been with Ron since sixth year. Draco has been with Pansy just as long. But is everyone really as happy as they seem? And how much could a little detention really alter their livesRR
1. Prologue

Hello everyone! This is my second attempt at a Draco/Hermione fanfic. The first one, while very successful, also had very many upset people who thought my ending was less than adequate for them. Personally, and I am completely biased, I thought the ending was good for the type of story I had laid out. It was more realistic, I believe, and neither character ended up upset at the end. Draco even ended up with a fiancée :)

So, now that that's all out of the way, on with my new fic. And don't think that just because they didn't end up together in my other one they won't in this one. Sheesh. Some people are so pessimistic :P

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Chapter 1: Prologue

Hermione Granger sat crying in the sweet-smelling spring rain. With her legs drawn up and her body hunched over, anyone could see that—leaning against the far tree near the lake—she did not want to be bothered. No one even gave her a second glance; she would not be disturbed today.

Reflecting on her seventh year at Hogwarts, Hermione could not understand how things had gone so horribly wrong. The beginning of the year had been so perfect, so right, so much of what she thought she'd wanted. Her life had been mapped out almost to her deathbed, every point and turn carefully thought out. But now that life she had thought she so badly wanted was but a wisp of smoke in her past.

A new life had been presented to her; one of deep mystery and chilling secrets. Never had she thought she wanted such things—they had nothing to do with her education and furthering her knowledge on the course to adulthood—but all of a sudden it was all she had wanted. She dreamed about her new and exciting life, praying each night that she could have "just one more day".

Days turned into weeks and weeks into months, until one day reality hit her hard. She could no longer remember who she was or how her life had become what it had.

And so she made a drastic decision. A decision that set the stage for the weeping ball of a girl that sat alone in the rain.

She feared—her teeth chattering—that she could never have her life back.

"Help me," she whispered, staring out at the calmness of the lake. But she knew help would never come.

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I know that was EXTREMELY short, but its only the prologue, and I wanted to get it out before this weekend, when I'll have absolutely no time for anything but homework and maybe some sleep.

The prologue of this story is actually the middle of it. The next chapter will begin from well before this point, and then the story will continue on until it reaches her crying in the rain, and then go on from there. I hope that makes sense :P Heehee!

Hopefully the next chapter will be out within the week. That might be pushing it for me though, so just me patient.

Other than that, I hope it was intriguing enough for you to come back :)

And don't forget to REVIEW!


	2. Year Seven

Recap: The stage was set, so if you can't remember my tiny prologue, then go back and read it again :P Heehee!

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Chapter 2: Year Seven

"Ron!" Hermione called from the bottom of the stairs, struggling to keep Crookshanks from getting away for the fifth time that day. They were going to be late if he didn't hurry. As it was they probably wouldn't end up in the same car.

"Is he ready yet?" Mrs. Weasley asked, rushing past Hermione into the kitchen to grab the snacks she'd packed for Ron, Ginny, Hermione, and Harry. As far as she was concerned, Harry and Hermione were her children too.

"Is he ever?" she laughed, pulling her mangy cat from her shoulder. She wondered absently if it were possible to train a cat.

"Yes," came Ron's irritated voice from the top of the stairs. "I am to ready. Now stop talking about me." He came down the rest of the way, pulling his jacket on. "We're not going to miss the train, 'Mione." He kissed her lovingly on the cheek, then scrambled out the door. He hadn't talked to Harry in almost a month for many different Ministry-related reasons. He was eager to see his best friend again.

"Change of pace?"

Hermione turned around to see Mrs. Weasley holding her bag of snacks.

"He must have remembered the famous Harry Potter," Hermione laughed. "At least he'll make the train this year. We have that."

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Twenty minutes and already she wanted to slap them. Not that they were doing anything out of the ordinary. On the contrary, they were doing the exact same thing they always did; ignore her. Ginny, who sat across from her, had fallen asleep almost immediately, knowing her brother and boyfriend all too well. Hermione should have known by now too, but there was still that hope that she could ignite something in Ron the way Quidditch did. The way she used to be able to.

She was up and out of the car before the boys could take notice. But she had her money on the fact that they never would. What she needed right now was a short walk through the train, just to clear her thoughts and focus on what was to come; her seventh and final year at Hogwarts, where she was named Head Girl; the year she considered her time to shine.

Time seemed to speed considerably as she dragged her feet through the carpeted corridors of the train. Most every compartment was full of chattering students, their shades pulled down. The train began to slow and it was almost time to disembark. She was about to head back to her cabin, when she heard heated voices that tried in vain to keep their conversation from prying ears.

"I am so damn sick of this!" The voice was obviously feminine. And Hermione knew exactly who it belonged to: Pansy Parkinson. Which meant that the other voice, the male voice, belonged to her boyfriend, and Hermione's longtime enemy: Draco Malfoy. Now there was absolutely no way she wouldn't eavesdrop. One always had to have their guns locked and loaded when they were the enemy of a Malfoy.

"You're sick of it?" Draco retorted. He was trying the hardest of the two to keep it down. "I have to hear this shit from all the other Slytherins and you're sick of it? Sick of what exactly, Pansy?"

"You don't trust me," she stammered, her voice faltering.

In the corridor Hermione repressed a giggle. Oh this was too good!

"I think we're beyond that point," Draco sneered. "I didn't trust you a year ago."

"What did I ever do to you, Draco! What! I'm your damn trophy for God's sake!"

"What did you do!" There was no controlling his tone now. "What didn't you do? First—"

"Hermione!"

She turned sharp on her heals, as if she were a naughty child with her hand caught in the cookie jar.

"Ron?"

"What are you doing out here?"

"What are you doing out here?" she laughed. "Did Harry die?"

He ignored her joke; it had been a jab and they both knew it. "The train is unloading. Come on."

"When did you notice I was gone?" she asked, sidled up next to him. Again he ignored her. Why couldn't she just understand? He needed to just be with a friend sometimes. Not that he wanted to be without her, he loved her, he always had and always would, but sometimes it was "friend time" not "girl friend time". The thing he didn't know, however, was that for Hermione when she was with Ron it was like both.

How could she make him see that?

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"Hey Granger." Hermione's back stiffened at the sound of Malfoy addressing her. She turned around and smiled rigidly at him; he would not get the better of her on their first day back.

"Malfoy?"

"Guess who else was named Head?"

"Someone qualified."

"Perfectly," he laughed. "We're going to have such a fun year, Granger. Well, I am anyway. How could a mudblood get through the day knowing how lowly they are?"

Hermione smirked, cocking her mental gun.

"And how can you get through the day with Pansy? I'm ok with you lashing out at me, Malfoy. You need to, otherwise you wouldn't be able to handle the fact that she's been cheating on you since day one."

She was met with silence. Her smirk widened.

"Tell me I'm wrong."

He opened his mouth to speak, insult her perhaps, but the words never came, for at that very moment Headmaster Dumbledore approached his podium and began his annual opening speech. The room fell silent and, for the moment, their little tiff was over.

Hermione-1

Draco-0

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"So Harry," Hermione said, taking a seat beside him on the couch beside the fireplace. Ron was currently in the bathroom; the present Fred and George had sent him for making perfect again had exploded all over his new robes. He'd been in the bathroom for over an hour trying to get the stain out and muttering angrily under his breath how he was going to get them back. "How does it feel to finally be a perfect?"

"Alright I suppose." He shrugged and pulled her close. They had a special bond, a relationship like a brother and sister. No one questioned their affection. They loved each other, but they were by no means in love. There was nothing inappropriate about their friendliness. "I haven't really done any perfect things yet. Other than bringing the first years in, but that's nothing."

"It's work, Harry. But I think you'll like it. Besides, me, Ron, and Ginny will be there with you the whole time…How are things going with Ginny anyway? It must have been hell being away from her for so long this summer."

"You're telling me," he laughed. Ginny had received the same exploding sentiment from her brothers. "I wrote her as much as I could, but I was so busy. I could hardly keep up with Dumbledore and them. I'm definitely happy to be back here and not have to worry about so much."

"Did you hear the bad news?"

He cocked his head to the side.

"Malfoy was named Head Boy," she groaned. "And here I thought seventh year would be a breeze."

"Just ignore him, Hermione. That's what I do."

"Can I ask you something, Harry?"

"Sure thing, 'Mione."

"Promise you won't mention it to Ron?"

He raised a questioning eyebrow. What could she want kept from her boyfriend?

"It's nothing big, I swear."

"Alright," he said hesitantly. "I promise."

"Do you and Ginny ever have problems? What I mean is, does she ever feel like you ignore her?"

"Do you feel like Ron ignores you?"

She nodded, averting her eyes.

"I'm sure he doesn't mean to."

"I know he doesn't mean to," she sighed. "But I don't want to mention it to him and make him feel like a bad guy. I love him, but…"

"But what?"

"Sometimes I don't know if I really love him, or I just…you know, love him the way I love you. Do you know what I mean, Harry?"

"I…Listen Hermione, I already promised I wouldn't say anything to Ron, but I think you need to. If Ginny felt this way I'd want her to talk to me. I'm sure its nothing." He stood, stretching his limbs. "Speaking of Ginny, I'm going to go see if she's cleaned her robes yet." He kissed her lovingly on the forehead. "And I know you love Ron, 'Mione. How can't you?"

"Right," she sighed, then perked up and smiled so Harry wouldn't be suspicious. "You're right. I do love him. Thanks Harry."

"Anytime."

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Goyle lay prostrated on the floor of the Slytherin common room, Malfoy's claw-like fingers wrapped in vice-grip fashion around his thick neck. His face was slowly turning blue and, if someone didn't split them up soon, he could pass out.

"Draco!" Pansy screamed, jumping onto his back and pulling at him with all her strength. "Stop it! Get off him!"

"Bastard!" Malfoy seethed, tightening his grip. In his other hand he held his wand, pressed like a knife into his "friend's" neck. He paid no mind to Pansy or any of the other Slytherins in the room. "If I ever catch you touching her again it'll be your life, Goyle!"

"Mr. Malfoy!" came the unmistakenable voice of Professor Snape. Using a simple spell, he separated the two seventh year boys, holding Malfoy against the nearest wall. "What is the meaning of this? You nearly killed him!"

"I should have!" He tried in vain to cast the spell off, but it was simply too strong. After several minutes of struggling, he relaxed, his heavy glare set on Snape, who stood five feet away, his wand still point rigidly at his star student.

"Not even twenty-four hours, Mr. Malfoy," he said, furrowing his brow. "What's gotten into you? What did Mr. Goyle do to make you attack him like that?"

"Forget it," he scoffed. "I'm over it."

"I'm confiscating your wand until after breakfa—"

"But—"

"Would you like it to be all day?" Snape warned. He so hated to be this way with Draco, but sometimes the duties of a teacher came before the duties of Slytherin loyalty. "Now I am going to release you. Slowly hand over your wand, unless you wish to sleep in my binding spell."

Draco's glared deepened, but he nodded all the same. Once Snape released him, he did as he was told, waiting until his professor was out of the common room to speak.

"Watch your back, Goyle," he hissed. "If you even look at Pansy in a way I don't like I will not hesitate to obliterate you." He stomped furiously from the room, grabbing Pansy's arm and forcing her along with him. "You," he said through his teeth, ignoring her helpless whimpering. When he reached the privacy of his room, he threw her roughly on his bed. If his mind hadn't been so clouded by anger and hatred, he might have noticed the look of sheer terror on her face. "So you like big, bumbling, half-wit, talentless wizards, huh Pansy? I'm not good enough for you?" He grabbed her hurtfully by the shoulders when she didn't answer. There was no doubt in her mind that if he was capable of hitting her that he would do it tonight. "You have to go screw one of my best friends and God knows who else?"

"It's not like you're just finding out for the first time!" she retorted, her tear-filled eyes narrowing into a look of utter loathing. "You've known all along, Draco!"

"Yes, well, seeing it is a little different, love." He took a set beside her, his arm snaking around her shoulders. "I don't know what the hell you have been thinking, but if I ever catch you with another man you—" But he couldn't finish his sentence, his voice caught in the most horrendous of laughs. "Oh Pansy," he sighed. He grabbed her face, forcing her to kiss him. "You won't ever humiliate me again, will you?"

She looked deep into his cold blue eyes, shuddering uncontrollably when she saw nothing but the purest malevolence.

"Will you?" he pressed, tightening his hold on her.

"Of course not, Draco," she whispered, the first of many tears sliding down her soft pink cheeks.

"And why is that?"

"Because I love you. Only you."

"Exactly." He kissed her once more, then pushed her off the bed. If she hadn't been expecting it, she would have fallen flat on her face. "Now get the hell away from me. And remember, I'm already not happy with you. Don't give me a reason to put my anger to the test."

Once Pansy was out of the room, and his mind stopped spinning, he was able to calm himself and focus his thoughts. Truthfully, he never really liked Pansy, not the way a boyfriend should. Yes she was beautiful, but she just wasn't what he wanted. He didn't know what he wanted, but it certainly wasn't a backstabbing girl like Pansy Parkinson. One would think that a devious boy like Draco Malfoy would want a girlfriend that could match his dark qualities. Draco had thought so as well, but, unfortunately for him, she was too much like him and wouldn't listen if her life depended on it. She was going to cheat on him again. And again, and again, and again, until—

He closed his eyes and lay back on his plush green pillows. Until what? Until he made her? As tempting as the thought was, he knew he would never be able to do it. He wasn't a murderer. He wasn't like his father. Not yet anyway. And not if he could do something about it. He admired his father's courage and bravery, but the messes he got himself into and his dealings with the Dark Lord. No, he could never become THAT evil. He was only angry, only hurt, perhaps, by the world and the hand he had been dealt.

"I need to get out of here," he mumbled, climbing off the bed and pulling on his cloak. A nice walk through the grounds would do his nerves some good. If not, then perhaps he could find some unfortunate student misbehaving to put in detention and lighten his mood.

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Hermione walked leisurely under the star-studded night sky. It was well past after-hours, but, being in desperate need of some solitude and fresh air, she went against her better judgment and snuck out for an evening stroll. The air was perfect; not too warm, not too cold. Her light fall cloak was perfect for the weather, and the breeze was more than she could have asked for.

Her thoughts inevitably drifted towards Ron. When they had first started dating it was like they fell in love everyday. They held hands, kissed every chance they got—they couldn't keep their hands to themselves. Now—she sighed painfully at the thought—now they were like an old married couple, hardly looking at each other and only displaying affection every blue moon. How she missed the beginning, the good times, when everything was new and excited and their feelings had been so forward and simple. They had truly been in love then, overjoyed in each other and the fact that the other had had the same feelings.

"I love you!" "I love you too!" "I've loved you since as long as I could remember!" "I want to be with you forever!"

Forever, she mused, kicking a loose rock in the patch she had been walking on. Could she survive in a relationship like this with Ron forever? It seemed impossible. And yet, she couldn't imagine herself with anyone else. Who else could instill such raging feelings of love as Ron had in her? Who—

She was on her back before she knew she'd fallen over. She had hit something—or to be more precise, someone—and hard. They had fallen over as well, and were none too happy about it.

"Malfoy!" she stammered, climbing to her feet. "What—"

"Watch where you're walking, Granger," he sneered, brushing himself off.

"I could say the same to you," she countered. "What the hell are you doing out here?"

"Likewise. But I don't see how it's any of your business. I suggest we keep this between us, unless you—"

"Stop it with the half-ass threats, Malfoy. I know you're not going to go through with anything you say."

"Want to put money on that?"

All she could do was laugh, startling him slightly.

"What's so damn funny?"

"First of all," she said, pointing to his waist, "you don't have your wand on you. And even if you did, you wouldn't stand a chance against me. I know far more than you. I could beat you in a duel any day."

"A duel, eh? Finally you say something we can both agree with."

Hermione arched her eyebrow. He wasn't suggesting that they—

"Malfoy, you can't—"

"I'm dead serious, Granger. Pick a day and time, and I'll prove I'm better than you."

"There's no way we would get away with it. Where are we going to find a secret enough place to duel! You've gone mental!"

"Alright," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "If you want to give up that easily. I was under the impression that you were hot shit. Apparently rumors can be deceiving." He was no more than ten paces away, when she grabbed the back of his robes and pulled him to a stop.

"Friday night," she said, locking his eyes and holding them with a deep glare. "One a.m. We each bring one witness. One. No audiences."

"Fair enough," he said, smirking down at her. "One more thing."

"What?"

"Don't ever touch me again."

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Hmm, Draco and Hermione dueling? Nothing could possibly go wrong there! LOL:P Oh silly, silly kids!…I hope everyone liked this chapter. The next one promises to be interesting. Heeheehee!

REVIEW! Please :)


	3. The Duel

Recap:

"Friday night," she said, locking his eyes and holding them with a deep glare. "One a.m. We each bring one witness. One. No audiences."

"Fair enough," he said, smirking down at her. "One more thing."

"What?"

"Don't ever touch me again."

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Chapter 3: The Duel

Hermione moaned softly. But her mind was in a different place, her thought as far from Ron's hungry kisses and nips as it could get. After five minutes of playing along, Hermione decided that her wayward thoughts had to be voiced. In the past when something had been bothering her, Hermione's mind had never strayed during foreplay or sex. It seemed it was the only good and healthy part of their slowly crumbling relationship. Only now her worries were beginning to affect this too.

"Ron," she sighed, pushing him back gently. He looked down at her with his big sad puppy eyes; it was the look he always gave her when she insisted they continue studying instead of fooling around. Tonight would be the first time it failed. "Ron, there's something I think I should tell you."

His playful frown immediately became real.

"Well Harry thinks I should anyway."

"What's wrong, 'Mione?" He sat up, brushing his bed-messed hair from his eyes. She was silent for a moment, then sat up as well.

"Are you happy with me Ron?"

He stared at her blankly for a long while, then burst into a fit of laughter.

"I'm serious Ron." He continued to laugh until her fixed expression proved her words. With a heavy sigh he answered.

"Of course I'm happy Hermione. But what's really going on? And why did you go to Harry before me?" There was nothing accusatory in his words.

"You know the answer to that, Ron. Harry calms me down. Its easier to talk to him with serious stuff."

"You're stalling."

She looked away; he was absolutely right. But how to begin?

"I love you Ron," she said, then stopped, collecting her thoughts and organizing her words. "And I know you love me—"

"But?" There was a slight tremble in his voice. What was she saying?

"Do you get bored with me?"

"Hermione—Do I what?"

"Do you get bored with me?" she repeated, her eyes misting.

"I love you 'Mione," he sighed, pulling her into a loving hug. "My 'Mione. Of course I don't get bored with you."

"But you and Harry—"

"Me and Harry are the boring ones. I'm surprised you don't get bored with me."

"So I'm not boring? Our relationship isn't losing its fire?"

"I'll show you fire, you little witch," he purred, tackling her into the soft bed sheets.

Needless to say, Hermione's mind didn't wander for the remainder of the evening.

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"I still don't understand why we have to do this," Ginny whined, her wrist beginning to hurt where Hermione was pulling her along down the darkened halls of after-hours Hogwarts.

Ginny. That's who Hermione chose to bring with her. Not Ron. Not Harry. But Ginny. Why she picked her was beyond Hermione; she had been the first person to come to mind. She was a loyal and trustworthy friend. If Hermione didn't want Ron or Harry to know about the duel, then Ginny would not be the one to tell them.

"Ginny," Hermione sighed, pulling her up along side her, her arm secure around her shoulders. "I have to protect my honor as a witch. How could I let Draco Malfoy, of all people, take that away from me?"

"But a duel? Hermione, that's dangerous!"

"Look Gin, if I don't show up then Malfoy will tell the whole school and everyone will think I'm all brains and no action. I can't wuss out on this. Not after everything I've been through here."

"You know Ron is going to be really miffed about this. Especially since you didn't bring him."

"If I told Ron then he would have tried to stop me from coming. Besides," she huffed, coming to a halt in front of the side door they were sneaking out, "he'll get over it." She whispered a silencing spell, just incase the door creaked, then slowly pulled it open and slipped through, pulling Ginny along with her, and praying that she would begin to cooperate.

"Well, well, well," came Malfoy's snickering voice in the distance as he heard their footsteps approaching. "I really thought you wouldn't show. Bravo, Granger. You're halfway to proving yourself."

"Crabbe?" she laughed as they came into view. "Where's Goyle? Oh!" She covered her hand over her mouth in mock astonishment. "That's right! I forgot. Silly me."

"You know, Granger, I was going to go easy on you. But now that you can't seem to keep your big mudblood trap shut I'm going to have to teach you a lesson."

"Easy on me?" she scoffed. "Please, it should be the other way around. I've seen how you handle a wand. We've graduated second year, Malfoy. Time to play with the adults."

Malfoy opened his mouth to retort, but stopped at the last moment, a devious smirk spreading across his gorgeously chiseled features. He took a few carefully calculated steps forward, drawing his wand.

"The time for talking is over, Granger," he said, lifting his chin just a little higher. "Arm yourself."

"I'm going to knock you off that high horse, Malfoy," she laughed, her wand drawn and aimed at the dead center of his chest. "And then you're going to look up at the face of the person who finally put you in your place."

They stared each other down, each one bearing a glare that could frighten a small child, a possibly even an adult. They were ruthless, vicious, angry, and in defense of their own personal honor. Hermione fought for muggle born witches and wizards; Draco fought for purebloods and the lifestyles they ought to lead.

"Ready mudblood?" Malfoy sneered, pulling back his arm to hold his wand eye level.

"I've been ready for seven years, Malfoy. On your count."

"One," he said, catching her eyes and holding them, the exact pronunciation of his curse running on a constant loop in his mind. "Two," he continued, tightening his grip on his wand. Oh, he was so ready; it was so close! "Thr—"

"Wait!" Ginny cried, running in between them.

"Ginny!" Hermione snapped, retracting her wand immediately so not to harm her. "What the hell—"

"Someone's coming." She pointed frantically at the Hogwarts castle in the distance. The side door they had so cleverly snuck out was open, a brilliant rectangle of light in its place. For an instant there was a silhouette in the doorway, and then nothing.

"I thought you were smart, Granger!" Malfoy hissed. He turned sharp and pushed Crabbe along, intending on circling the castle for another side door. He didn't get more than two steps, however, and was yanked back by the back of his robes, falling square on his rear end. When he looked up, Hermione was smiling down at him. Crabbe was nowhere in sight.

"Where's your horse?" she laughed. "Ginny, get the hell out of here. This is my problem."

Ginny was about to protest, when Hermione aimed her wand and said:

"Don't make me tell you again."

She was gone just in time to miss the arrival of Professor McGonagall and Filch, his favorite feline friend rubbing against his leg. Hermione cursed herself silently for forgetting about that damn cat.

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"This is completely unacceptable!" Professor McGonagall sighed, exasperated. How were the professors supposed to run a school when their prize students were breaking the rules? "The Hogwarts' Heads sneaking out in the middle of the night? What on Earth were you doing out there!"

Filch stood behind McGonagall, whispering what Hermione mused as sweet-nothings into his cat's ear. He was beside himself with glee.

"You're right professor," Hermione sighed, bowing her head. "We were out of line."

"What am I going to tell the Headmaster? That his two best students—who are supposed to set examples for the others—were caught outside after-hours? Are your reputations as enemies too important that you have to sneak out to steal kissed?"

Hermione and Malfoy gasped in unison. She thought—

"That is NOT what we were doing!" Malfoy snapped, almost forgetting that he was talking to a teach and they were already in an unbelievable amount of trouble.

"Then what were you doing, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Malfoy, don't—"

"She doubted my abilities as a wizard," he huffed, puffing up his chest. Hermione stared on in muted awe and complete horror. He wouldn't— "We decided to settled out differences and prove who was greater."

"Is this true Miss Granger?" came McGonagall's disappointed voice. "Were you and Mr. Malfoy actually planning to DUEL?"

Hermione sighed and nodded, bracing her sanity for the inevitable outcome: expulsion.

"Two weeks detention—"

"Detention?" Hermione gasped excitedly. "You mean we're not expelled?"

"Most certainly not," McGonagall laughed. "I am very disappointed in both of your behavior, however. Your disagreements with one another should not have escalated to such an extreme. For that I am assigning you two detention together." They had expected as much. "For the duration of the two weeks you will be assigned a series of tasks in which you must work together. Failure to complete a task or to cooperate will result in another week of detention for each infraction."

"So we're not expelled?" She still couldn't believe it. Her heart was still racing, ready to burst from her chest.

"No Miss Granger. Now get back to your dormitories. Its very late."

Hermione was so happy not to be expelled from school that she didn't notice the more prominent than usual scowl on Draco's face. They were almost to the fork in the corridor where they'd go their separate ways, when suddenly he roughly grabbed her arm and slammed her against the nearest wall.

"Malfoy!" she hissed, pushing him off her. "What gives!"

"What gives?" he bellowed. "What gives! We will NEVER be able to cooperate Granger, that's what gives! We're going to be in detention until graduation!"

"No," she corrected, poking him hard in the chest for emphasis. "If you keep your big mouth shut we'll be done in two weeks."

"And your mouth? It's not so small, mudblood."

"You see?" she said, motioning to him. "Its things like that that can easily be avoided and save us both headaches."

"This isn't going to work," he groaned, hanging his head. "You know I'm right. When you come down from the clouds you'll see it too."

"Relax, Malfoy. If you feel an insult coming on just remember that that's one more day together. If it's too much for you and you're willing to risk it then that's your problem. I'm mature enough to handle two weeks of detention with you."

"Let's hope you're right." He disappeared into the shadows before she could even think of a comeback, which was probably a good thing. She was going to need the practice if they were going to get through the next two weeks.

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Hermione opened her eyes and screamed. Backing into the headboard, her heart beating ten times faster than normal, she stared at the petrified face of Ginny Weasley.

"Ginny, what the hell!" she snapped, clasping the front of her nightshirt. "Do you want to give me a heart attack?"

"Sorry 'Mione," she sighed. "Ron and Harry know."

"I—How do they know?"

"I don't know! I swear I didn't say a word! Harry just spent the last half hour chewing me out about it…"

"Damn it…" She looked around for her robe, and when she couldn't find it, shrugged and climbed out of bed. It disturbed her slightly that she was not afraid of Ron's anger. Harry, on the other hand, she was not looking forward to seeing. The look on his face alone would probably be enough to keep her shut up in her room for the next week. When angry with her, which was hardly ever, Harry seemed to be the only person capable of making her cry. Over the years she had become a hardened individual, having only cried probably a total of three times in the past two years. "Did they send you up to get me?"

Ginny nodded, her eyes focused on the floor, as if the carpet were the most fascinating thing in the world.

"How mad is Harry at me?"

"At you?" She looked up, her eyebrows knit in slight confusion. "Not at all. Ron's the one who's fuming at you."

"Not even a little?"

"I think he's afraid for you, 'Mione. You're like a sister to him. If he lost you—"

"What did Ron say?"

"You mean besides that he's going to personally disembowel Malfoy?" Hermione laughed beside the situation, and nodded. "He doesn't understand why you didn't tell him. When I told him that he would have tried to stop you he said, 'Damn right I would have.' So I guess you were right about that."

"This should be fun."

"Do you want me to come down with you?"

"If you want." She shrugged and headed for the door. Why was her attitude towards Ron so indifferent? Why did it seem that his anger was insignificant? Wasn't she supposed to care when the love of her life was furious with her? She thought so, but at the same time she thought that was completely ridiculous. It was her life and she was old enough to make her own decisions and do whatever she wanted. He would argue that she could do whatever she wanted but within reason, and her answer to that would be, "But I did have a reason." That perhaps was the only reason Harry was not mad. He understood the concept of protecting honor, especially against Draco Malfoy.

She wasn't even halfway down the steps when Ron confronted her, pulling her the rest of the way down, his grip strangely familiar and a little scary. He was never rough with her, not for real.

"Would you mind explaining yourself?" he hissed, glaring heatedly into her eyes. She wanted to laugh suddenly; he was so damn adorable when he was angry. Those eyes; that must have been what drew her to him in the first place. Big passionate green eyes.

Before answering, she looked around the room, noting how many of their fellow Gryffindors were there. As expected nearly half the house was congregated in the common room; most must have come down during Harry and Ginny's fight.

"What's there to explain, Ron?" She crossed her arms rigidly over her chest, feeling an abrupt wave of anger herself. What right had he to tell her what she could and could not do? "Malfoy said that I wasn't as good a witch as he was a wizard. What would you have done? No, wait!" She pushed him back onto the couch. "You did the same thing! Second year you tried to make Malfoy eat slugs. And Harry, he dueled with Malfoy too."

"That was supervised by professors!" Ron protested, ignoring her first point.

"Face it Ron. You're just upset because I picked Ginny to bring with me and not you. You're sore and jealous."

"Hermione!" he gaped. Of course she knew it wasn't true, but she wasn't about to lose this fight. Not when she knew that both her boyfriend and best friend would have done the exact same thing has they been in her place. "You could have been killed!"

"You think Malfoy's better than me?"

The room fell completely silent, all eyes on the arguing couple.

"Right. I'm going to go take a nice warm bath, and then I'm going to breakfast." She turned her back on his sharply, her eyes stinging with tears of anger. "Thanks for believing in me Ron."

"Hermione, wait!" But she was already gone.

No one bothered to say the obvious. He was screwed…

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Ahhhhhhhhhh! Well now everything is a mess! What a perfect time to throw in added angsty emotions and confusing feelings! Hahaha!—Detention time! Wooooo! This is going to be good :P

REVIEW! Pretty please :D

Note: Wow, I'm dumb. Haha! A few times someone mentioned that it was prefect, not perfect. But I was always really confused. When I read Harry Potter I always read it as perfect, because that just made sense to me…Now I get it! Hopefully I won't keep making that mistake out of habit :P And thanks to whoever told me that, even if it did take it awhile to sink in.


	4. And Slowly They Crumble

Recap:

"Right. I'm going to go take a nice warm bath, and then I'm going to breakfast." She turned her back on his sharply, her eyes stinging with tears of anger. "Thanks for believing in me Ron."

"Hermione, wait!" But she was already gone.

No one bothered to say the obvious. He was screwed…

* * *

Chapter 4: And Slowly They Crumble

"So, I hear you and lover boy are fighting," was the first thing Draco said when Hermione walked into the assigned detention room the following evening. She didn't care how he knew, but she was determined to ignore his jabs.

A few minutes later Professor McGonagall walked in, a small piece of parchment in her hand.

"Good," she said, "you're both here." Without wasting time, she handed the parchment to Hermione and said, "Read it. I'll be back in a few minutes to see how you're coming along."

Hermione waited for her to leave the room before she looked at the parchment.

"That sounds easy enough," she said, handing it to Malfoy. He had a slightly different reaction.

"No," he said. "No way. I'm not doing it."

"But Mal—"

"Look Granger, you might not care about your reputation, being a filthy mudblood and all, but us purebloods have to watch our backs. We do not associate with you, and I am NOT doing that."

"Its not difficult, Malfoy," she sighed, snatching the parchment back from him. "Honestly, you're like a two-year-old. All we have to do is have lunch together tomorrow and be civil with one another. If we agree to it then we get out of detention tonight."

"I will not show my face in public with you. There has to be something else we can do, because that won't work."

"You're so stubborn!"

"Don't you—"

"That will be quite enough," came Professor McGonagall's slightly more powerful voice. "I see that you are both going to make this more difficult than it has to be. You will do the task tomorrow Mr. Malfoy, and one extra week of detention is now added. You may return to your dormitories." She was out of the room before either could voice their protests.

"Great," Hermione huffed, crossing her arms rigidly over her chest. "Thanks a lot Malfoy."

"Me?" he balked, glaring daggers at her. "Shove off Granger."

"Whatever," she sighed. "I'll meet you outside the Great Hall tomorrow morning. Don't screw this up too."

* * *

The room was silent; complete, hollow, could-hear-a-pin-drop silent.

They walked swiftly through the room, staring straight ahead, and didn't stop until they reached the teachers' table. There were two extra seats, the seats they were to sit in this morning.

"Good morning," Professor McGonagall said, smiling warmly. "Sit down here next to me. No one can eat until you do."

Hermione bit her tongue. That hadn't been on the parchment! Everyone was waiting for them? Everyone knew and so no matter what all their eyes were going to be stuck to them as they walked to the front of the room.

"Good morning professor," she managed to get out before taking her seat. Malfoy didn't say a word; not that anyone thought he would though. Almost instantly the tables were full of food and Hermione dug in immediately. As long as she had food in her mouth she didn't have to converse with Malfoy, something that she knew her professor was expecting.

"I have your next task," McGonagall said, sliding a piece of parchment to Hermione. "The two of you should discuss it now." It was not a request. She lifted it slowly, allowing Malfoy to see it as well. Surprisingly he did not act the way he had last night when presented with their task. He simply shrugged and shoveled an unspeakable amount of food into his mouth.

"We have to discuss it," Hermione said, catching his eyes.

"Discuss what? I think its clear enough. Snape's coming in and we have to work on a potion together." He was about to add something, some sort of biting remark, but he bit his tongue. Anything he said in the vicinity of a teacher could land him in yet another detention. "And besides," he sighed, taking a small sip of his juice, "I think we've accomplished what McGonagall wanted. Everyone in the Great Hall thinks we're talking civilly."

"We are talking civilly," she pointed out, having just realized it herself.

"You'll come to find that I'm a great actor, Granger. Oh, by the way, you look so nice today."

"That will be enough Mr. Malfoy," Professor McGonagall said sharply, leaning over to look him in the eye. "Unless you want more time added that is."

"When detention is over," Hermione said and turned her nose up at him. No more needed to be said.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"How long are you going to keep this up?" Harry asked, his arm slung loosely over Hermione's shoulder. "He's sorry and he's miserable."

"I think a few more days should do the trick. And that's being nice. What he said was worse than anything Malfoy's ever said to me."

"Just because you're better doesn't mean Malfoy couldn't have won. He's vicious, Hermione. Who knows what kind of nasty tricks he was going to pull on you…And," he said, turning her head to face him, "for the record, Ron does not think Malfoy is better than you."

"Well he has a really bad way of showing it."

"I think you—"

"Hermione?"

They turned to find Ron standing behind them, his head slightly bowed, his hands held in front of him, as if he were a child being reprimanded. And Hermione thought, Good, he should feel that way after what he said to me.

"Yes Ronald?"

He cringed. She only called him Ronald when she wasn't happy. He had hoped she would have cooled down some by now; he was sadly mistaken.

"Can I talk to you? Alone?"

"That all depends," she said sharply, ignoring a soft jab from Harry in the side. "You're not going to try to apologize are you? Because I'm still not ready to accept it. If that's what you want then you can save your breath. There are better ways I could be spending my time. Like perfecting my magic."

"Hermione, please," he sighed, looking up at her for the first time. "Just a few minutes. That's all I want."

She looked to Harry, who gave her a curt nod and a small push forward.

"Very well. Let me get my cloak and we can go outside."

* * *

Draco looked down into the quivering eyes of Pansy Parkinson and smiled coldly. She was scared—No, terrified. She thought he meant to harm her, and she was half right. He did wish he could do something physically destructive to her for all the embarrassment she'd caused him over the past few years they'd been together. But then that would be just what his father would want. Not that Lucius Malfoy had it in for Pansy, but knowing that his son was capable of such carnage would make him weep with joy. Draco was not about to give him that satisfaction, for, even though on the outside they appeared the picture perfect diabolical family, in reality Draco despised his father as much as any normal teenage boy does. Only in his case, he truly had a reason for it.

No, he would not hurt Pansy. Only scare her a bit more. A little psychological trauma never really hurt anyone. Her fear was what he needed right now, because, try as he might, he could not get it from Hermione Granger. She was his ultimate goal. If he could get her to cower before him by the end of the year then he would come out on top.

"So, my treat," he whispered into Pansy's ear, making her shiver noticeably beneath him. "Any unfaithful visits with my bumbling associate?"

She shook her head vigorously.

"No Draco," she whispered. And she had been such a tough girl before him. "I don't even look at him."

"And the others?" he pressed. Oh the others; there had been so many, too many to know.

"What others? I only want you."

"Perfect." He leaned down and captured her plump pink lips. "Show me."

* * *

The crisp evening air was soothing against Hermione's face. And, with her cloak wrapped tight around her, she was not cold in the least. At this hour, they still had some time before all students were supposed to be inside, and then it was time for detention.

Hermione didn't know what she considered worse: having this inevitable conversation with Ron, or knowing she would be spending the next three hours with Malfoy, forced to bite her tongue.

"I haven't heard a word," she said when they had been walking through the grounds in silence for nearly five minutes. "I thought this was important."

"Hermione please, I didn't bring you out here to pick a fight."

And when she looked up into his eyes she saw true pain and a deep remorse. Of course he was sorry, of course he didn't meant what he said in the way she took it, and of course he would be afraid for her, he loved her. It made her want to pull him into her arms and forgive him completely. But then, remembering her statement early, she held her ground and stood a good three feet from him.

"What did you bring me out here for Ron?" She tried her best to keep her voice steady and free of anger.

"How long have we been together, Hermione?"

She thought for a moment, then said, "A year and a half, give or take."

"And how much of that time has been perfect? Happy? Passionate?"

She returned his question with a blank look.

"What about fights? And anger? And uncertainty?"

"Ron, what are you saying?" Now she was scared. No, he couldn't be saying what she thought he was saying. She needed him God damn it! Didn't he realize that? Even with all the fighting she needed him. He was a part of her as surely as Harry was. If—

"I love you Hermione, I always have and I always will. And Harry loves you. And Ginny loves—"

"Please," she whispered, now completely frazzled with fear, "just say it." She didn't even notice that she'd stepped forward and was clutching his hand tightly.

"Hermione," he said, taking a deep breath, "I can't bear the idea of not being with you. I can't imagine my life without you."

"Ron!" she begged, her lip trembling. He wasn't even looking at her. Look at me! she wanted to scream.

"Hermione." He pulled his hands free from her and cupped her face gently, leaning in close enough to kiss her. "Marry me."

"Ron, no! Ron—What?"

"Marry me," he repeated, and reached into his pocket to present her with a small black velvet box. And when he opened it she couldn't suppress her gasp. It was gorgeous and there was no way he could afford it.

"Ron, how did you buy that!"

"That money I was saving up for a new broom," he admitted, blushing slightly. "That, and Fred and George lent me some. They make more money than they know what to do with sometimes…So, what do you say? Or are you going to keep me hanging?"

"Oh!" She sprang forward, wrapping her arms around his thick neck and giving his face kiss upon kiss, until she finally whispered, "Yes, yes. I love you. Yes." She took a step back and watched in a dizzying awe as he slipped the ring on her finger. She held it up in the fading evening light, her eyes widening at its absolute beauty. And then, startling him completely, she lashed out and slapped his arm.

"What was that for!"

"You scared the shit out of me! I thought you were going to dump me!"

"Dump you!" he laughed, hoisting her up into his arms, as if she were already his bride and he was about to carry her over the threshold into their dream home. "Oh 'Mione. What would I do without you?"

"Fail every one of your tests, that's what."

* * *

They had been sitting in the designated classroom, mixing potions, for the past hour and neither had said a single snide remark. Snape had left some time before, feeling his two smartest students could handle themselves alone. Besides, he wasn't supposed to be on detention duty tonight. Professor McGonagall was called out on official Order business that morning and so his detention night was moved ahead.

For Hermione, there was no need to say anything more to Malfoy than, "Can you hand me that?" or "Does this look like the right color?" or "What's the next ingredient?" She was far too elated with her new engagement that, even if Malfoy did open his mouth, it wouldn't affect her in the least.

Malfoy's reason for keeping so quiet was, of course, far different. His row that evening with Pansy had proved to be more straining than anticipated. Goyle had received an earful as well, and a good black and blue reminder not to touch _his_ woman. He had no doubts that they were probably romping in his bed right now, defying his orders completely. When had things turned so rotten for him? Crabbe and Goyle had always been loyal to him; always ready at his beck and call. When had he been turned on? And by his fellow Slytherins? Was he not the shining example of pure magical ability and charm? Good looks and cynicism? Who could stand up against that?

He sighed irritably and looked to his left. Hermione Granger was one that could stand up against him, and put him in his place too, though he would never, never admit it.

And that was another thing. She was far too cheery right now. Hadn't she and her lover boy been arguing just this morning? What changed? Why could she not keep that stupid grin off her face? Was she mocking him?

"Malfoy?"

He shook his head to clear his thoughts and looked at her. She must have been trying to get his attention for some time.

"Something else on your mind?"

"What? Playing psychiatrist, Granger?"

"Fine, don't tell me. But you can stay awake and help me with this potion. I need to crush these eggshells into a powder while you stir the cauldron continuously. Ok?"

He nodded and took the big wooden spoon from her, only noticing afterward that he'd grazed her hand. Her head was far too high in the clouds to notice anything he did.

After he had been stirring for what felt like an hour, and staring off into nothingness, he looked over to see what was taking her so long with the eggshells. They looked powdery enough to him. They didn't have to be perfe—

"Granger, what's that on your finger?" he demanded without thinking.

"Not that you care," she said, her smiling widening, "but Ron proposed to me tonight."

"That explains the ridiculously stupid grin," he scoffed. "Are those shells done yet?"

"Umm…Yeah." She scooped the powder into a small bowl, then dumped the contents into the cauldron, yanking her head back when a thick reddish smoke came billowing out. "Red is good," she sighed. "Thank God."

"Did you actually think you wouldn't do it perfectly?" He had meant it as an insult, but it seemed, with all the other stuff that was on his mind, that he lacked his usual conviction. To Hermione, and to Snape who had just reentered the room, it sounded like a shy compliment. "I—Shit."

"Very good," Snape said, looking over the potion. "It's perfect, just as the others are. And it was your last one." Without another word, he walked swiftly from the room. He had much more work to complete this evening.

"I can't believe we made it through a whole detention without biting each other's heads off," Hermione pointed out as she set to cleaning up the mess they had made. "See Malfoy. We can do it. We just needed some motivation. The week's almost over and we have two more to go. It'll be a breeze from here on out."

"I think it's safe to say, Granger, that tonight we were both very preoccupied. What makes you think we can keep this up for two and a half more weeks? You're a dreamer if you think it can be done without any further infractions."

"Well let's enjoy it right now. And help me clean this up. I still have homework to do tonight."

They were nearly finished with the clean up, when Draco simply could not get his mouth shut any longer. His thoughts had been nagging him all day and he desperately needed a release. Anything.

Instead, however, he somehow managed to subliminally ask for help.

"Granger," he said, nearly startling her. "What makes you stay with Weasley?"

"What do you mean?" What was he trying to say? It didn't really sound like an insult. No, more like he truly wanted to know.

"What makes you want to be with him?" Oh well, he thought, might as well go all the way. Foreplay was never his thing.

"Are you asking me for relationship advice, Malfoy?" It was the hardest thing she'd ever had to do; keep a straight face and not laugh. What she was really thinking though, was that she pitied him. She knew, along with the rest of the school, how Pansy had been cheating on him since almost the moment they got together.

"Nevermind," he scoffed, snatching up his bag and trudging out the door. What had he been thinking? To ask _her_ for help? It was ridiculous! She's a Gryffindor! She'll tell everyone now! Why couldn't he just keep his big mouth—

A surprisingly strong arm pulled him to a halt in the middle of the corridor. He knew who it was before turning to become face to face with a concerned Hermione Granger.

"Tell me something," she said, her fingers still wound around his wrist. "Why did you two start dating in the first place?" She didn't know why she was helping him, of all people. Only that she pitied him and the look in his eyes had been genuinely painful.

"I don't have time—"

"Alright. But think about it. And try talking to her, instead of yelling at her. I don't know if you've noticed, but that never works. Especially with you."

"Whatever Granger. Stay out of my business." And then he was gone. And she was completely confused.

* * *

Ooo! There's a nice little tension going on there :) Hmmm, I wonder what that could turn into.

REVIEW:D


	5. The Forbidden

Recap:

"Alright. But think about it. And try talking to her, instead of yelling at her. I don't know if you've noticed, but that never works. Especially with you."

"Whatever Granger. Stay out of my business." And then he was gone. And she was completely confused.

* * *

Chapter 5: The Forbidden

Now that Hermione and Ron were engaged, and it was official to everyone else, she thought that things would begin to change. Ron would be more attentive, more loving, more like a boyfriend than a best friend. But it seemed, more than ever, he was the same boy she'd known since first year.

Just a boy.

Both her and Ron's parents had been ecstatic at the news. They thought it was "about time" he proposed. Everyone knew that they were meant to be together. Everyone, that is, except for Hermione, who was beginning to recycle her doubts, only now they were tenfold. They were so much worse simply for the fact that she knew there was absolutely nothing she could do to permanently change things. That had been proven only one day after his proposal, and then it was back to her sitting around while him and Harry talked and talked away like girls.

And when Harry wasn't around—because, she thought bitterly, he was so good to Ginny and spent quality time with her—there was no romance, no spice, nothing of what had been there in the beginning, nothing of what she needed so desperately.

But the worst part was, that when she felt down, she found herself thinking about her detentions and how they weren't so bad. In fact, they were better than sitting around like a throw pillow. She actually interacted with another human being in detention. The thought was quite a bit more than frightening—she didn't tell a soul; not even Harry. Not that detention was wonderful. It was downright miserable, but at least she wasn't ignored. Though, the more she thought about it, the more she realized that she and Malfoy had been very pleasant to one another for the past week or so since that strange night of detention when she tried to help him. They seemed to be handling each other's company rather well. There was no fighting and hardly a handful of glares.

Professor McGonagall was very much impressed with this change and therefore decided to cut two days off of their sentence, though she wondered how long the calm waters would last. And tonight their assignment would definitely put some strain on them. Then again, that was the point. To push them as far as possible, yet still have them remain civil.

And, so far, the plan was going much better than she thought.

"Well, they're getting easier," Hermione said, knowing very well that this was exactly what Malfoy had been dreading the entire time. They were going into the Forbidden Forest. Alone.

"This is against school rules," he stammered as they walked through the grounds towards the entrance of the forest.

"That's what you said six years ago," she laughed, holding their only lantern just slightly lower to spook him a bit more. Oh, she thought, this is going to be _too_ much fun!

"And it's still true." He had originally wanted the lantern, but, after Hermione giggled at him, he jabbed it into her stomach and trudged on ahead. It took her nearly a full minute to catch up to him, and when she did her laughter was still not under control. "What exactly is it that we need to get?" he groaned, pulling his cloak tighter, as if it would somehow protect him.

"No clue," she said with a shrug. "McGonagall just said we have to follow the map to find the centaurs. They're expecting us and we have to take whatever they give us."

"And what about…" He trailed off, looking away.

"What about what?"

"What about the other…_things_ in the forest?"

"Oh geez Malfoy," she half scoffed, half laughed. "Really, you need to grow up. We're both very successful with magic. _If_ anything happens we can ward off whatever it is long enough to escape."

"Was that a compliment, Granger?" He smirked, looking over at her.

"I'm stating the obvious," she sighed, rolling her eyes. "Now hurry up. McGonagall said this counts as two detentions because it's going to take so long. I don't want it to be longer than it has to be."

Malfoy only huffed and picked up the pace. The last thing he wanted was for her to think he wanted to spend time out here with her.

Or maybe…

His frown curled into a devious smirk just as they passed into the Forbidden Forest, his face completely shadowed by the trees.

* * *

"Good job, Granger," he sighed. "You got us lost."

"_I_ got us lost?" she snapped back, wanting to throw something sharp and heavy at him. But the ground was bare. "I was following the damn map, you moron!"

"Give me that." He snatched it from her hands before she could stop him. "Where are we?"

"There." She jabbed the map at the place they should be, seeing as she followed the map _exactly_. There was no reason, whatsoever, that they should be lost. "We started here," she said, pointing to the forest's entrance, "and we followed this path exactly. There should be a marker on this tree, but there's nothing, and the path forks but there's no fork on the map. Professor McGonagall must have given us the wrong map by mistake."

"Or," he said, grabbing her attention, "she gave us the wrong map _on purpose_, so we would get lost and have to work together to find our way back."

"Malfoy, that's insane. Why would she—"

"Think about it, Granger. If the centaurs really needed to give us something _that_ badly then they would have found us by now. And if you followed the map just like you said then there should be a marker and no fork, _but_ there is." He handed the map back to her and crossed his arms arrogantly over his chest, lifting his head just a little higher. "I don't think we're here to get anything. This task is just a big waste of time. We're going to be here all night."

"But…but," Hermione stuttered, checking and re-checking the map. "That's impossible. I mean…No. I don't believe she would do that to us."

"Oh really?" he laughed. "What's the whole point of these detentions?" She looked at him blankly. For once she didn't have the answer. Though it was more like she was too shocked to say the answer. "To get us to get along," he answered for her. "And what better way to do that then to throw us in the Forbidden Forest and get us lost? We'll _have_ to cooperate to get out."

"She could have told us," Hermione huffed, finally accepting what he was saying.

"Neither of us would have agreed to it, and you know it." He trudged on ahead, leaving behind both the useless map and the much-needed lantern. It took a few moments, but Hermione finally caught up with him, grabbing his arm and whirling him around to face her. "What in the name of Merlin do you think you're doing, mudblood? Haven't I told you not to touch me!"

"Shove off," she spat, slamming the lantern into his gut. "Here. If you think you can get us out of here then you lead the way…Coward."

"Excuse me? What was that last part Granger?"

"I said—" But at that moment the forest and its many unknown and unwanted creatures decided to voice their presence; with a great howl and a shuffling of twigs and leaves that couldn't have been more than twenty feet away. Hermione was so busy trying to figure where the noises came from that she almost didn't notice that Malfoy held her arm tight against his chest, his eyes searching wildly about. ""Big bad Slytherin scared of a creepy noise?" she laughed. But her small victory was short-lived. The noise grew louder, and Hermione could have sworn she felt something breathing on the back of her neck. This time it was her turn to jump.

"Not so tough yourself, Gryffindor," Malfoy shot back, his hands still clutching her arm. She was about to say something to him about it when the noise sounded again, only this time it was softer, farther away.

Simultaneously they let out deep breaths. They were safe; for now.

"Well it's nice to know that I have a big strong man to keep me safe," Hermione grumbled, pulling roughly away from him.

"Why on earth would _I _try to save _you_?"

"Uh! I knew it!" she snapped, whirling on him, her wand out and stuck deep into the flesh of his thick neck. "I knew you couldn't go all this time without pissing me off completely! Why? Why! Why can't you ever just keep your big, stupid, _pure_ mouth shut!"

"And why can't _you_ control your temper?" he countered calmly; nothing ticked a person off more than speaking in a low, calm voice when they were screaming at the top of their lung, miles beyond their breaking point. He didn't even bother reaching for his wand, which he very well could have done. He knew she would never risk expulsion; not again anyway.

"Shut up! Just _shut up_!" Her face was a very unflattering shade of purple.

"Do it," he egged on, sticking his neck out so her wand went in even further. "_Do it_."

"I will," she hissed through her teeth, her fingers shacking and tightening around the sturdy piece of wood.

"Then do it."

"I will."

"Come on, mudblood. Show me what a great witch you are!"

"I will! I—" But she was too late, and in a flash she was on the ground, her wand feet away from her. Malfoy loomed over her, smirking in that cocky way only he can do. His wand was out, pointed directly at her heart. Whatever he meant to do, she doubted he would freeze up the way she had.

"Now who's lost their horse?" he laughed, shaking his head as if he were disappointed. "You really thought you could over-power _me_, Granger? Really? Because it looks to me—"

With a heavy thud and a loud oomph, Malfoy came crashing down on top of Hermione. She wasn't about to take his insults lying down. All he needed was one good kick in the shin and—wham!—he was down for the count. The only problem, however, was his position. And instead of climbing off her immediately, he chose to scream in her face, the weight of his entire muscular body pressed down on her. She could hardly breathe.

"How dare you!" he hissed, glaring directly into her eyes. His nose was almost touching hers, and he smelled wonderful, the way a man should smell. Hermione found it difficult to think of anything but his scent. After a few moments she regained her senses and head-butted him as hard as she could. He rolled off of her, grabbing his forehead as if it were bleeding. But the fight wasn't over yet. She snatched up her wand and climbed on top of Malfoy's prostrated body, sticking its point once more into his neck. "Not this again," he chuckled, trying to mask the incredible throbbing pain in his head.

"Shut up," she demanded, her teeth clenched so hard she thought surely they would break.

Malfoy would never admit it, but the raging fiery anger in her eyes actually gave him pause. He thought for sure that she would go through with it this time. He had pushed her too far and now he would pay for it. But instead of doing the smart thing, which was apologize so they could get out of the forest, he lifted his head, feeling at all too familiar sting as her wand drove ever further.

"Come on Granger," he said. "This is ridiculous. The same thing over and over. I know you want to do it, so just do it."

Her eyes narrowed and she adjusted her grip on her wand. When he jerked his head towards her, their noses touching this time, she didn't flinch.

"You've hurt me for the last time," she whispered, her voice trembling. And inside she was screaming, Hurt him! Hurt him! Curse him! Do it! Now!

"I hardly think so," he said, his voice just as low, and very husky, the way two lovers talk to each other in bed. His gorgeous blue eyes were calm and focused. Hermione found herself mesmerized by them and she almost—almost—leaned in. What she didn't know, however, was that those same thoughts were coursing through his mind as well. And so, seeing the admiration in her eyes, Malfoy closed the gap between them, their lips coming together for the first time; a perfect fit.

Hermione's entire form stiffened immediately as Malfoy's tongue pushed to gain entrance into her mouth. And then, all at once, something in her burst and she dropped her wand, returning the passionate kiss tenfold. It took her several moments to realize what she was doing and who she was with. And in horror she scrambled off him, backing herself against a tree.

"Malfoy," she whispered, her voice trembling.

"Yes?" he sighed, climbing to his feet.

"What…What the hell was that?"

The devious smirk returned to his face and once again he was pressed against her, his hands on the tree so there was no way for her to escape.

"A damn good kiss, that's what." But when he went to kiss her again, she jerked back, smacking her head against the tree's rough bark.

"But what does it mean? What—"

"It means, genius, that we both are in broken relationships and we're making the most of it. Now shut up. You're ruining the moment."

"But I'm not," she insisted, averting her eyes. "We're getting married!"

"You think I can't see you at meals? You're miserable."

"I am n—"

But she was silenced as his lips captured hers once again. And she knew, if his arms hadn't wrapped themselves around her waist, her knees would have buckled. This was the passion that she'd been craving for so long! This was what was missing from her and Ron's relationship! And what terrified her most of all was that it didn't seem strange, in the least, that it was Draco Malfoy that could ignite her so perfectly.

"I thought you hated me," she said, her forehead resting on his shoulder.

"Who says I like you?"

"Then what's going on?"

"What I said. We're making the most of misery."

"But I thought I was disgusting and you didn't want to touch a mudblood like me."

All he could do in response was laugh.

"You're dumber than I thought."

"Excuse me?"

"Reputation is everything in my family. I hate you because I have to. Blood means nothing to me."

"But I—"

"Hermione?" Her breath caught in her throat as her name rolled off his tongue for the first time. "Shut up and kiss me."

* * *

Two nights later, when they had detention again, Malfoy walked towards their assigned room with his head held just a bit higher. Ever since they returned from the Forbidden Forest, she wouldn't even acknowledge his existence. But he knew why. Once glance, one smile let slip, could ruin both their lives. When they were alone in detention things would be different. That night, after their initial kiss, they spent nearly another whole hour in the woods, until finally they forced themselves to go back.

When he walked into the room, Hermione was already there, her nose buried in a book. McGonagall was nowhere in sight.

"Where is she?" he asked, leaning his elbow on the desk she sat at.

"She'll be back in a minute," she said, not glancing up at him.

"Let's hope we'll have time to get her assignment done," he said suggestively, expecting her to look at him, a small, shy smile playing on her lips. But instead she only nodded and continued to read. "Hermione?"

"What?" Finally she looked up, but it was with the same contempt she'd always had.

"What's with you?"

"What's with me?" she scoffed. "What's with you?"

"Last night—"

"Last night," she sighed, rolling her eyes, "was nothing to me. I was angry with Ron, that's all." His eyes widened in anger. "What?" she laughed. "You—You thought there was something more there? Oh Malfoy! That's too much!"

"You stupid wench!" he hissed, grabbing her book and pitching it across the room. "How dare—"

"How dare I what? Hate you like I should for everything you've ever done to me? Really, Malfoy, what did you expect? We'd sneak around, stealing kisses, like Romeo and Juliet? You and Pansy really must be in a rut. I feel sorry for you."

"I-I-I," he stuttered, his fists clenching so hard his knuckles actually hurt. "You'll pay for this, mudblood!" He had just produced his wand, when Professor McGonagall came storming in, disarming him, her face red with anger.

"What's the meaning of this!" she demanded, glaring at both students. "You two were doing such a great job. What brought this on!"

"She—" Malfoy began, but cut himself short. No, there was no way he'd tell _her_.

"Well?"

They looked away from her heated glare, awaiting their inevitable punishment.

"Fine, don't tell me. Two more weeks. Here." She slammed a piece of parchment on the desk in front of Hermione and trudged from the classroom.

For a long while there was complete silence, and then, all of a sudden, Hermione broke into a fit of laughter.

"What the hell is so damn funny?" he yelled. He bent down to retrieve his wand, when Hermione stood and came around the desk, advancing towards him. "Well?" Without saying a word, she pushed him hard against the nearest wall, her eyes displaying none of the anger they held only moments ago.

"Now we have two more weeks," she whispered into his ear, sending shivers down his spine.

"What—"

"Take your own advice," she said. "Shut up and kiss me."

* * *

Well, well, well! They are bad, bad kids! What's going to happen when they start feeling guilty? Or will they?

REVIEW!


	6. Nothing More

Recap:

"Now we have two more weeks," she whispered into his ear, sending shivers down his spine.

"What—"

"Take your own advice," she said. "Shut up and kiss me."

* * *

Chapter 6: Nothing More

Lying. Cheating. Stealing. Going out after hours.

Something in Hermione's chemistry had certainly changed. She was acting like all the students she hated most. She had become her worst enemy. But the worst part was that she didn't even care; not in the least. She figured she would eventually, but, right now, her nerves still sore from yet another brush off from Ron, she could care less if she got caught by anyone for any of the things she was doing wrong.

As she rounded the corner—for a split second—she thought twice about what she was doing. _If _anyone found out then she would hurt a lot of people, not to mention her reputation and possibly her future career. But the thought went as quickly as it had come, and she pulled Harry's Invisibility Cloak down a little to cover her feet completely. This part of the school was where Filch was most likely prowling—or at least his precious, and only, friend. She had to be extra careful.

She was just about to her destination, when, out of nowhere, an arm lashed out and yanked her into a completely pitch black corridor. Harry's cloak fell to the floor; forgotten. She gasped for breath and fumbled for her wand, but the instant she felt that all too familiar pressure on her lips, her body relaxed in complete submission.

"Malfoy," she whispered, her voice heavy with desire. "How did you see me? And what are you doing? We're supposed to meet—"

"We're not the only students who had the idea to use that abandoned classroom tonight. And I didn't see you. I heard you. You breathe unbelievably loud."

"Shut up," she snapped, though she was anything but angry. "What are we supposed to do now? We can't stay in the hall. Filch is bound to pass by sometime."

"Easy," he said, grabbing her wrist. "We're going to my room."

He managed to drag her several yards before she was able to bring them to a halt.

"I must have heard you wrong," she said, yanking her hand free. "I thought you said we were going to your room. As in the Slytherin House."

"You heard me perfectly well," he sighed. "Pansy never sleeps in my room. And if I tell Crabbe and Goyle to beat it and sleep in the common room then they will."

"And how exactly am I going to get in and out without anyone seeing me?"

"You're too dense to be as smart as you seem," he laughed. "The Invisibility Cloak."

"Won't they question why you're sending them away?"

"No. They don't question anything I do. Besides, Goyle owes me big."

Hermione was about to ask why when she realized that she knew the answer. She decided to drop the argument and agree to go with him, otherwise she would end up in bed alone, again. And if she had to spend another night like that then she would have a nervous breakdown. Or so she surmised.

"I have to be gone before sunrise," she said, pulling the cloak over the both of them.

"No one will see you," he assured her, "because I don't want anyone to see you. This is _not_ something I'm proud of."

"Likewise," she retorted sharply, though inside she was slightly wounded. He had been the one to make the initial advances on her. He had wanted her. And before this moment she had foolishly thought that that was true, that he wanted _her _and not just another girl to fill in for when Pansy went astray.

Perhaps there was still time to back out. But, before she knew it, they were before the Slytherin entrance and Malfoy's hands were over her ears so she didn't hear the password. She was shuffled into the common room and was left beside the fireplace. Malfoy disappeared up the boys' dormitory stairs, and, moments later, Crabbe and Goyle and another boy she recognized but didn't know his name, came traipsing down the stairs and found semi-comfortable places to sleep for the night. Once they were settled Hermione carefully, holding her breath, climbed the stairs and walked until she found the only door that was open. Malfoy sat suggestively on his bed, his day clothes having vanished in the short time they were apart, replaced by green plaid pajama bottoms and a tight white tank top.

He looked divine.

"I didn't know this was a pajama party," she said, trying her best to cover her trembling, nervous voice. She knew exactly what was on his mind and, as much as she knew she would love it, she also knew that in the morning she would regret it and her conscience would force her to cave and tell Ron. And then everything from there would crumble. "I should have dressed better."

"Come here," he all but demanded, patting the place beside him. He would have to be more gentle with her at first. Pansy was a veteran to Malfoy's roughness in bed, to his roughness period. Hermione would need some work. But, in time, he knew she would mold nicely for him, and then his revenge would be exacted on Pansy.

What was worse than cheating? Cheating with a Gryffindor. And a mudblood at that. Pansy would be so sore and embarrassed that she would never look at Goyle again. And then he would toss her aside, like so much dirty laundry.

Hermione sat slowly beside him, her hands folded in her lap, her heart racing faster than she thought normal.

"Relax," he whispered, kissing her neck with unbearable lightness. If he had been forceful with her, Hermione could have easily made herself believe that she was raped. But he was allowing her to make moves, to take it slow, to think about what was going on. "Take off your shoes."

If he had said "clothes" she might have slapped him and stormed out. But he hadn't, so she slipped off her rubber-soled tennis shoes—she wouldn't dare wear her clunky black school shoes trying to tiptoe in the halls at night. She had to admit, she was slightly more comfortable, and tucked one leg under the other, leaning back on her hands.

Malfoy frowned and sat back.

"I didn't come here to have sex," Hermione blurted out, then wished she hadn't.

"I didn't bring you here for sex," he half-lied. If that's what had happened he wouldn't have stopped it. But them getting together tonight was about a deeper need. And even Malfoy couldn't deny that. As much as he tried to hide it, he was truly lonely, and so was Hermione, and so she was the only person who could fill that empty void. "Don't get me wrong, that would be great." Hermione rolled her eyes, shaking her head as if disappointed. "But I doubt you're anywhere near ready for that."

"I'm not a virgin," she said, sounding almost hurt.

"I didn't say you were. What I meant was you're not ready to be with me."

"You really do think highly of yourself, don't you?" If she was going to get through tonight then fighting was necessary.

"Stop turning my words around." Now he was getting agitated. "You're not ready to be with someone other than Weasley. Your conscience is still fighting with kissing."

"And what makes you think I'm ever going to sleep with you?"

He smiled knowingly and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to him. And very slowly, giving her ample time to stop him, he leaned them back so they lay beside each other on his bed. His lips found hers in that perfect way they always did, and instantly she was a puddle of a girl in his arms. She only half noticed as he pealed off her heavy gray school sweater, leaving only the starched white button-up dress shirt and her red and yellow Gryffindor tie.

The tie was gone in a matter of seconds, tossed to the floor with her sweater and Malfoy's tank top, another detail she only noticed after the clothing was completely gone.

His fingers toyed agonizingly at the first button of her shirt, teasing her emotions, his hot lips suckling sweetly at her neck. He managed to unbutton half the buttons before she was able to clear her head and push him away.

"I can't do this," she whispered, going to button her shirt back up.

"You can," he insisted, and finished taking off her shirt. The only thing left from her waist up was a lacey red bra, embroidered with gold flowers and curlicues. "I already told you this wasn't going to end in sex. Trust me a little."

"You can see where I'd have a problem with that."

"I won't even touch you below the waist, alright?"

She nodded and immediately his hands went to undo her bra. Her mind went instinctively to all those firsts with Ron; their first kiss, the first time he tried for first base, second base, third, and then the night they finally made love. It had taken almost six months for them to reach that point. And for a long time things had been so passionate, they were so in love and nothing could separate them.

But then they became so comfortable that, little by little, things started to slip away, and soon holding hands became almost a chore. How could she marry someone who wasn't passionately in love with her? For so long Ron had been that guy, the love of her life. Why had things changed? Why didn't he love her that way anymore? What was she doing wrong? Clearly she was desirable enough; Malfoy's teeth nibbling at her earlobe and his hand massaging her breasts told her that much.

Somewhere somehow things took a drastic turn. And she doubted that they would ever be the same.

But she wasn't giving up on him. Not yet.

"Loosen up, Hermione," Malfoy said, grabbing her attention. "I'm not a necrophiliac."

"I think I should go." She sat up, covering her bare chest as best as she could. "I have too much on my mind tonight, Draco." She kissed his cheek quickly, then went to gather her clothes and put them on as fast as possible.

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?" She looked up as she buttoned her shirt.

"You just called me Draco."

"So?" But she knew what he was getting at. It was the first time she'd called him Draco. Malfoy was a demeaning term, what she used out of anger and hatred. But calling him by his first name meant something, something _huge_. Because now they were no longer strictly enemies. But in order to escape tonight with her dignity, she had to act like this was not a big deal.

"Fine," he sighed, and stood. He snatched her sweater out of her hands and helped her put it on, stealing a kiss here and there. "I'll see you tomorrow night in detention."

Without acknowledging his words, she pulled the Invisibility Cloak over her and quickly and quietly found her way downstairs and out into the hall.

If only she didn't have to face Ron tomorrow.

* * *

Hermione stood in the center of the corridor, her eyes misting as Ron and Harry walked off towards a last-minute Quidditch practice. Tonight they were supposed to have a quiet night, alone, in his room, discussing wedding plans. Instead, Ron ditched her for his first love: anything but her.

Her heart was still fluttering with pain from rejection. For a moment she didn't even realize that people were bustling all around her. And then, very suddenly, she was yanked back and around the corner, into an empty hall.

Her lips were pressed firmly against another's, her back against the wall, her knees weak and ready to give at any moment. It was Malfoy, there to sweep her up and put the pieces back together after Ron so perfectly shattered her. And it was the second time this had happened. And she was so confused that she wouldn't even allow herself to think about making a solid discussion.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered, burying her head in his shoulder. He smelled wonderfully like the cold; he must have just been outside. She wanted to wrap herself up in his arms forever in that moment. But why, oh why, did she want him so badly? Only two weeks before she had hated him to her very core. Now she fought to keep his lips from her thoughts when she lay beside Ron in bed.

It was all happening so fast; she didn't know if she could stop it.

"Saving you," he answered, his voice husky and inviting. He was _not _the Malfoy she knew and hated. He was still rough and hard-eyed, but there was a tender undertone now, a gentleness she never knew could exist within him. Though he was by no means good to her or right for her. He was Draco Malfoy and she was Hermione Granger. He was oil, she was water. They could _not _mix. "You're so…" He paused, searching for the right word. "Limp," he finally said, pulling his head back. He had that devious smirk on his lips. "What happened to the stiff, rigid Hermione I knew? You've gone soft," he chuckled.

"I can't be hard all the time," she sighed, unaware of the single tear that managed to push its way out. And, almost instinctively, Malfoy reached up and wiped it away, kissing her lips softly. "I don't know what's wrong with me, but I can't keep doing this. It's gone on long enough, Malfoy. I can't see you anymore."

"Long enough?" he scoffed with a laugh. "It's been two weeks, Hermione. Not a lifetime. Besides, what's wrong with you is what's wrong with me. We're unhappy."

"I'm unhappy," she said, looking into his eyes. "You're angry. There's a difference. And this is helping neither of us. We'll only get more unhappy and more angry in the end."

For a moment she thought he might have actually listened to her words. And then, as his lips made firm contact with hers, she knew he hadn't and would make it all the more difficult for her to push him away.

"Nothing is going to come of this." She shoved him back, a little more forcefully than she meant to, and averted her eyes. One look into his cold blue eyes and she would be done for, yet again, and guilt-ridden the moment she saw Ron. Not that he noticed she was acting different. But Ginny was beginning to, and, in the right circumstances, Ginny could get anything out of her. "So stop it. I won't do it anymore."

"Do what?" he laughed. "Kiss? Fool around? Really, Hermione, it's not like we're having sex. And, even if we were, you're right, nothing would come of it. But why does anything have to happen?"

"Then what's the point?"

"Oh I see," he sighed, shaking his head. "You're being regretful."

"Of course I'm regretful!" she snapped.

"But why?"

"Because it's wrong."

"Why is it wrong?" he pressed, taking a bold step forward. That first night of detention after the initial kiss had been the only time in the past two weeks that Hermione had made any sort of move.

"Because I'm with Ron." She crossed her arms over her chest to prevent him from getting too close. "I love Ron," she added, almost as a side note.

"But you're miserable. What's a silly thing like love matter when you're not happy?"

She opened her mouth to retort, but there were no words. He was right and she had no counter. Her heart skipped a beat and she felt almost lightheaded.

"Hermione?"

She looked at Malfoy, her vision hazy. And, just before everything went black, she felt the press of strong arms catching her, protecting her, saving her from a fall.

* * *

It was well into the night when Hermione opened her eyes again. She sat up and looked around. She was in the infirmary and Madame Pomfrey was nowhere in sight. A few other students were scattered in beds here and there, but the room was in complete silence.

The last thing she remembered was Ron leaving her for Quidditch practice, and then Draco stealing kisses in the hallway. And now she was here and no one was around to tell her what had happened.

Checking herself over, she surmised that she wasn't injured. She did feel slightly woozy, but not in a sick way. And then she remembered. She had fainted in Draco's arms.

With a heavy sigh she climbed out of bed, leaving a quick note on Madame Pomfrey's desk before heading back to the tower.

All the while when she walked back she debated fiercely with herself. Her guilt was too much, and she knew that now. And Ron didn't love her. A million and one emotions had bombarded her in an instant and so her body shut down. Absently she wondered how she ended up in the infirmary. Surely Draco hadn't taken her. Everyone would have seen him carrying her through the halls.

But there were more important things to think about right now. Her guilt was becoming so bad that she could hardly think about Ron without wanting to cry. Yes he was being distant and inattentive, but that didn't mean he deserved to be cheated on. But if she told him she risked losing more than just Ron. Harry and Ginny would undoubtedly be angry. It was Draco Malfoy after all, their sworn enemy, and a Slytherin. Her and Ron's parents would be upset at the break-up and the reason behind it. She would be cast aside by everyone she grew to love and all for a few weeks of making out with Malfoy.

In the end, as she climbed the last few steps to the Fat Lady portrait, she decided _not _to tell Ron. She would stop seeing Draco and eventually her conscience would clear. Everything would go back to normal. She might be miserable, but at least she wasn't hurting anyone, and especially not the people she cared most about. Because she did love Ron, though after her interventions with Draco she doubted it was the passionate true love she had thought it was in the beginning. He was a wonderful friend and she would always love him as such.

But then the problem was that she was engaged to marry him. How could she live the rest of her life knowing that her true love was out there somewhere and she would never know because she chickened out and married her best friend? She knew he only thought he loved her. And he was being safe. If he married Hermione then he wouldn't have to go through the stress of dating again and potentially having his heart broken. She was his best friend and that was better than no marriage, or a loveless marriage. He wanted children and a happy family, like his family, and in order to get that he needed a wife. Hermione was the best candidate and so he proposed. She doubted very much that he knew all this, but, perhaps, in time, he would come to realize it. And hopefully it would be before the wedding, before any children came, before it was too late.

If only there were some way to break it off without causing a big fuss.

And that's when she made her decision. She would talk to Ron tomorrow, about their future, and how committed they actually were to fully loving each other. It would be a trying and long conversation, that could end miserably. But at least she was trying. It was more than she could say for him.

By the time Hermione got into the common room, it was past two in the morning and everyone was in bed. Or so she thought.

She was halfway to the girls' dormitory stairs, when suddenly she was captured in a constricting bear hug. Immediately she smelled Ron's aftershave and eased into his arms.

"What's wrong, hun?" she asked, kissing his forehead tenderly. But all the while she was thinking, I'm a whore, I'm a slut, I wronged you and I can never undo that, and I'm so sorry.

"Where were you?" His eyes were frantic in the little moonlight that came through the windows.

"I woke up in the infirmary," she stated flatly. "I think I fainted in the hall and someone brought me in. Madame Pomfrey wasn't there, so I left. I'm fine."

His brow eased slightly and he loosened his grip.

"Are you sure? Me and Harry and Ginny have been worried sick? We looked all over."

"Apparently not," she chuckled, kissing him on the mouth this time. "Trust me, I'm good. I really am." And she truly thought she was.

* * *

Well there's another chapter for you all. Hope you liked it. I know not too much happened, but at the same time a lot was realized. There will be tons more action next time, I swear :) How could Hermione think she could leave Draco? What a kidder :P Heehee!

REVIEW! Please :D


	7. Hearts and Spades

Recap:

"Are you sure? Me and Harry and Ginny have been worried sick? We looked all over."

"Apparently not," she chuckled, kissing him on the mouth this time. "Trust me, I'm good. I really am." And she truly thought she was.

* * *

Chapter 7: Hearts and Spades

Hermione glanced at the clock, then at the porthole. Ten minutes ago she'd left dinner, saying that she needed to get a head start on her homework before detention. In actuality, however, she needed those few moments to prepare herself before her talk with Ron. Once he returned they would have a good two hours before she was scheduled to be at detention. And then she had _other _matters to attend to.

She was just about to get up and check the hall, when the porthole opened and in came Harry, Ginny, and Ron. Harry and Ginny scampered off to Harry's room with anxious waves at Hermione. And Ron took cautious steps towards her, sitting by the fireplace with no books. He knew he'd been had. Only he didn't know just how serious the situation was.

"What's up 'Mione?" he asked, taking a seat opposite her.

"Ron, we need to talk."

His nervous smile dropped into an all out frown and he gripped the arms of the chair, as if they could somehow save him.

"About?" he choked out, his eyes falling on the engagement ring.

"Us, what else?" It was only after seeing the hurt in his eyes that she realized she'd snapped at him. "Sorry, I've been stressed the past few days. I didn't mean to be short with you."

"What about us, Hermione? Didn't we just have a talk? I still don't think you're boring."

"I know you don't," she laughed bitterly. "And that's not what this is about. Ron," she said, taking a deep breath. "I'm not happy."

She was met with complete silence.

"Ron?"

"Hermione, I'm so sorry. I love you," he said nervously, leaning forward. He clutched her hands as if he needed them to steady himself. "Please, don't do this. I love you, I need you." He didn't care in that moment how pathetic he sounded. He didn't know what he would do without her. She was his life, his everything. She was who he spent his last two summers with. They'd gotten to know each other so well in that time. He could never live without her. "I love you." He leaned in closer, trying to kiss her, but she dodged him and moved over on the couch. In silence, she patted the place beside her. He obliged without the slightest thought, other than he wanted to be with her and make her happy.

"I don't know what happened to us, Ron," she sighed. "Do you remember when we first started dating? How happy we were? How we couldn't live a moment without each other and—"

"If this is about me and Harry spending—"

"Ron, please, let me talk."

She waited a moment to continue.

"This isn't about you and Harry. This isn't about you. It's about us. We're not what we used to be. We're not…We're not in love anymore."

"That's not true!" he stammered, grabbing her by the shoulders. "I love you, Hermione. I love you so much."

"Yes, it is," she insisted, her teeth clenched, Gently she pulled him off and sat back. "We're not in love, we're not. I didn't believe it either at first. I fought it too." This time it was Hermione who reached over and took his hands. "I never thought it could be true in a million years, but, recently, I've come to realize that it _is _true. I love you, Ron. I do. Don't think that I don't, but it's not the love we thought, it's not the love we need. It's not…It's not true love."

"You're wrong," he said sharply, yanking his hands away. "I am in love with you, Hermione. I always have been. It's you that doesn't love me!" He stood so fast Hermione gasped under her breath. "What the hell has happened since we've been back at school that would change your mind? What did I do? What happened? Tell me."

"Nothing happened," she lied, looking away. "I've just been thinking a lot and this is what I came up with."

"Well for once you're wrong, Hermione. You are. This can't be right, because I've never loved anyone more than I love you…and I thought you felt the same." His eyes were lined with tears and she wondered how much longer he could keep them back.

"I do love you," she almost yelled, climbing to her feet as well. "I love you the way I love Harry and Ginny. I love you and I need you as my friend Ron, but I can't keep leaving like this! This relationship is too much for me! I've been worrying myself sick for too long about it. I can't keep doing that. I don't want to be forty with five kids and in a loveless relationship, only realizing it then when it's too late. And I can't have children in that kind of situation. And I can't…I can't put you through that…I'm sorry Ron, but that's what I feel…"

"Well thanks for the warning! Here I was thinking everything was fine, thinking that my girlfriend still loved me and would marry me and have children with me and we would be happy for the rest of our lives. Excuse me for being a dreamer!"

"Ron!" She was inches from slapping him across the face. "Stop it! Just stop it! You're being ridiculous. If you would just stop and think for one second then you would realize that I'm right. Even if you are in love with me then this is still the right thing to do. How could you expect me to stay with you when I didn't feel the same? It would be wrong for both of us…But," she sighed, placing a careful hand on his shoulder, "I don't think you're in love with me. I think you're comfortable and afraid of change, afraid of being alone. I know you love me as a friend, but if you think, really think for a long time then you'll see that I'm right."

Slowly, he eased himself onto the sofa, his cheeks dry, though it seemed his eyes were about to burst at any second.

"Ron?"

"Hermione," he whispered, unable to keep the tears from falling any longer. He couldn't hide behind anger anymore. "I love you. Don't do this. Think about it. How can we be without each other? We're meant to—"

"We won't be without each other Ron," she sighed. She sat beside him, taking his hands in hers. "You're my best friend and we'll always be together. You're right, we are meant to be together, we are soul mates, but not in that way. In time you'll come to see in time that I'm right."

"I don't think I will." He bowed his head, turning away from her.

"Ron please don't do this. It's not good-bye."

Suddenly, giving her no time to brace herself, Ron rushed towards her, grabbing her face and kissing her forcefully. She tried to pull him off, but he was too determined. When he finally pulled back, he buried his face in the crook of her neck, hugging her close, his body trembling.

"I'm so sorry I wasn't better to you," he cried, then leaned back and wiped at his face and eyes. "I know I haven't been the best boyfriend, and I do still want to be your friend, but…"

"Not right now?"

"Right," he sighed, and stood. "It's just too hard right now. But I will…I'll come to you."

"Soon?" she asked hopefully.

"When I'm ready," he said, then walked away, his head down and his heart heavy. He truly did believe that he was in love with her.

"I'm sorry Ron," she whimpered into her hands, her tears finally braking free. "But I couldn't do it anymore…"

* * *

"What's wrong with you?" Draco demanded, pulling his head back.

Hermione looked up at him with her big chocolate eyes. For a long while she had pretended that nothing was wrong, pretended that she didn't just crush her best friend's heart to pieces, pretended to be into what Draco was doing to her. But she simply couldn't ignore her raging emotions.

"I broke up with Ron tonight," she sighed, pressing her face into Draco's chest. But, instead of hugging and comforting her like any normal person would, Draco laughed and stepped back. "Are you laughing at me!" she snapped, taking a swing at him. "Malfoy!"

"What?" he sighed, rolling his eyes. "Like you didn't know it was bound to happen. Even I did. You weren't happy, I knew you couldn't stay there much longer…Besides, the guilt was really getting to you. And I _know _you could never give me up."

"Shove off," she hissed, crossing her arms over her half-naked chest. "I'm really upset here and all you can do is laugh!"

"What did you expect?"

"A little more for someone you has been begging to be with me for the past two weeks."

"Fine," he sighed, pulling her to him. "If you really need to know, I was laughing because now you won't be all regretful when we're together. You can completely devote your time to us and not have Weasley in the back of your mind."

"And what about you and Pansy?"

"What about us?"

"You're going to stay with her?"

"Of course," he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Hermione jerked herself free of his hold and backed into the wall. "What?"

"I can't do this with you if you're still with her. It's me or her."

"I'm not going to leave her for you, Granger," he laughed. "How could I choose a mudblood Gryffindor over a pure-blooded Slytherin? You've gone mental."

"Do it or we don't."

"No," he said through his teeth.

"You're a coward," she hissed, slapping him across the face. "No wonder you're a Slytherin."

And for the remainder of the detention she didn't utter a single word.

By the time they left Draco was beginning to wonder if maybe he'd crossed the line.

* * *

For the next week and a half Hermione didn't talk to either Ron or Draco. Ron because he wouldn't even look at her, much less speak to her. And Draco because of what a complete jerk he was. She kicked herself after that night, wondering how she could have thought he would leave Pansy for her. And, the more she thought about it, the more she didn't understand why she had _wanted _him to leave her. It's not like she wanted him to be her boyfriend. What they had been doing was only about the closeness and being with another person in heated, unbridled passion. It was never supposed to go so far or last so long.

The only contact she had with people outside of class was Harry and Ginny. Both were equally worried about her and Ron. They weren't talking, which meant they weren't mending or healing, and Ron still wouldn't admit that he wasn't in love with her. She was beginning to wonder if she was too hard and really had broken his heart without thinking. But she was still convinced that he was still living in a dream world and that soon—she prayed—he would come around and talk to her and confess that he wasn't in love with her and that she'd been right. Not that that's what she wanted, to be right, but how else could it be? There was no way he was in love with her.

"If we lose another game we're out for the cup," Harry said, catching Hermione's eyes. She sighed and looked away. "Hermione?"

"What do you want me to do about it, Harry? I can't force Ron to speak with me. And I can't go back to him. I don't love him, not like that. How many times do I have to tell you people?"

Harry frowned, looking almost hurt. For so long he had believed they were the perfect couple and so completely in love, the way him and Ginny were in love. Now, after their messy break-up, he was beginning to wonder himself. And he almost wanted to be mad at Hermione for causing him to question his love for Ginny.

"Please try to speak with him. He's depressed, 'Mione. He doesn't eat unless me or Gin force him to. He skips class and practice and lies in bed all day. He's a wreck and you—"

"And I'm the cause of it, I know," she said, gritting her teeth.

"No, that's not what I was going to say. You are the only person who can make him better, Hermione. Please, try at least. What could it hurt?"

"Ron for one. Look Harry, he told me not to talk to him, not until he's ready. I won't go against that. He doesn't deserve any more pain from me…I…I've been awful to him. You have no idea."

"What are you talking about Hermione? You've been nothing but great to him."

"You don't know that Harry, and neither does he."

"What are you saying?"

She looked away, casting her eyes at the floor. She couldn't believe what she was about to say. But for the past month it had been eating away at her. She had to tell _someone_. And that someone would be Harry, no matter how much he would hate her for it; she just couldn't keep it a secret any longer.

"Harry, I've done so terrible things, things you wouldn't believe, things you would…things you'd hate me for."

"Hermione, I—"

"Please, Harry, let me finish. I don't know what was going through my head at the time, but I—I don't know, I was scared and sad and upset and angry. I don't even know now why I did it, why I—"

"Hermione?"

They snapped in the direction of the boys' dormitory staircase. Ron stood at the foot of it, fully dressed and showered. Even his hair was combed. Hermione almost didn't recognize him. Since their break-up he'd been either messily dressed and disheveled, or only wore pajama bottoms and wrapped a blanket around his shoulders, bumbling through the common room like a mental patient. He looked so much better. She had to force herself not to smile.

"Ron," she said, standing, her conversation with Harry completely forgotten.

"Can we talk?"

"Of course," she said quickly, then bowed her head, and sighed. She shouldn't act so enthusiastic, not when his face was still sad and drawn.

When they reached his room the mood was no less sour. It took several moments, but finally, after taking a seat on the bed—Hermione opted to lean against his desk—he began to speak.

"I've been thinking a lot," he said, "and I think you need to know this."

Hermione took a deep breath and braced herself.

"You have been my everything for so long that when you told me you we're happy and that you didn't love me I was crushed. And I was so angry, I almost wanted to hurt you." His voice was so level and gentle that there was no way she could take his words as anything more than past-thoughts. She knew he wasn't aiming to upset her; he didn't want revenge. "I couldn't believe it. I had no idea that you felt that way. I thought we were happy, but…but I guess I only wanted to believe that. I was blind, Hermione," he sighed. He stood and approached her at the desk. For a moment he did nothing, and then, very slowly, he took her hands and held them to his chest. "I love you, I always have, I always will. I love you like I love Ginny and Harry and my brothers. I love you like you love me. I'm not in love with you, I know that now, and I thank you for helping me. We," he paused, a thin smile coming to his lips. "We really side-stepped a disaster, huh?"

"Yeah," she laughed uneasily. "We did."

"Come on." He pulled her into a tight and warm embrace. "I've spent too much time away from you."

"Where are we going?"

"For a walk around the lake. I haven't been outside in awhile."

"Ron?"

"Hmm?"

"I never meant to hurt you."

"I know," he said, pulling on his cloak. "You did what you had to do."

"Do you forgive me?"

"Of course," he laughed. "Beside, we have that really hard Potions assignment due Monday. How could I get through that without you."

"Ronald!" she snapped playfully, running at him. She scooped her up and twirled her around, giving her a loving kiss on the forehead.

"I think this is going to be really great."

"Yeah," she sighed as they made for the door. "Me too."

* * *

"Hermione."

Silence.

"Hermione?"

Again, silence.

"Granger!"

"What!" she hissed, not looking up. She'd been so good about ignoring him. She was not about to look at him now and blow all that well-deserved anger.

"Can I talk to you?"

"What about, Malfoy? We're supposed to be reading about the task and figuring out a strategy."

"I broke it off with Pansy."

"Malfoy, don't even—What?" She must have heard wrong. Her heart fluttered and her hands slid off the table and into her lap.

"I left her, dumped her. She's history, gone. Just like you wanted.

"I—Malfoy, why are you doing this?"

"Because," he sighed, rolling his eyes, "if I didn't you would never talk to me again, much less let me touch you."

"Since when does what I want matter?"

"Because it decides if I get what I want."

"Draco?"

"Because you're better for me than Pansy, alright?" he snapped, looking away. "But remember," he said sharply, looking back and catching her eyes, his finger pointed rigidly at her, "this is _only _about fooling around. We are not _together_, nor will we ever be. Got it?"

Hermione sprang from her seat, tackling Draco to the floor and covered his face with passionate kisses.

"Why would it ever be anything but?" she breathed, suckling at his bottom lip. "I still hate you, Draco."

"Then it's agreed. It's only about the sex?"

"Sex? But we haven't—"

Draco silenced her with a powerful kiss.

"Yes," she whispered huskily. "Yes. Until one of us wants out."

"Or until the end of the year."

"Right, right," she said, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. He pulled her down to him, capturing her lips. She had such perfectly plump lips. He could kiss them all day.

"Promise me something Granger."

"What?"

"You're only with me. I won't have you running back to Weasley or screwing other guys behind my back. I won't do that again."

"I promise," she said, intending to fulfill that promise. She didn't want anyone else. "What about you?"

"I left Pansy for you, didn't I?" he laughed.

"Promise me."

His nipped at her neck playfully.

"Draco," she said firmly, yanking her head back.

"Yes, yes," he laughed. "I promise."

"On your life?"

"Yes."

"And if you break that promise I will curse you."

"I wouldn't expect any less from you."

"Alright. One more thing."

"What?"

"I'm on top."

* * *

WEEEEEEEE! That was fun! Sad and angry and fun :P All sorts of good stuff happened. Heehee! And I just wrote this in like two hours. Go me!

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	8. When It Rains It Pours

Recap:

"Alright. One more thing."

"What?"

"I'm on top."

* * *

Chapter 8: When It Rains It Pours

Hermione had never felt so happy, so alive! She was smiling all the time, laughing everyday, and, best of all, spending more time with her best friends. Since she and Ron were no longer under the pressure of sustaining a relationship, it seemed easier for them to spend time together. Hermione even started attending Gryffindor Quidditch practices and found that she actually had a good time. It was like the old days all over again. And, somehow, she had Malfoy to thank for that.

During the past month, after her reconciliation with Ron—and with Malfoy—their families finally caught wind of the break up. The owls started arriving just before Christmas and neither side was pleased.

"They act like it involves them," Hermione sighed, setting aside yet another embittered letter from her parents. They wanted to know if she was depressed, which made her want to laugh; she'd never been happier.

"Really," Ron muttered. Lucky for him he hadn't received an owl today. "They have no say in stuff like this."

"I know. Don't they see that we're happier just being friends?"

"Parents," they groaned in unison, then burst into a fit of laughter.

At the next table, the Slytherin table, Draco watched Hermione carefully through slitted eyes. and he was none too pleased at how buddy-buddy she and Ron were being. After spending so long with a girlfriend who constantly cheated on him, it was no wonder he had trust issues. Especially considering how he and Hermione "got together" in the first place.

Thinking only about his own misfortunes, Draco stood and trudged over to the Gryffindor table. He jabbed Hermione in the back, causing her to jump and yelp in surprise. When she turned around, she was even more shocked at who was standing behind her.

"Malfoy? What do you want?"

"Heads' stuff," he said shortly, then motioned towards the hall. "McGonagall wanted me to tell you something."

"So tell me," she said, agitated. Just because they were seeing each other in secret did not mean he could just interrupt her at meals, especially when she was having such a good time. Things were so comfortable with Ron, it was like they'd never dated in the first place.

"It's _strictly_ Heads' business," he said through his teeth.

Hermione rolled her eyes and slipped off the bench.

"I'll be right back," she told Ron and the others, then followed Malfoy into the hall, knowing full well that Professor McGonagall wouldn't send Malfoy to tell her something. "What's this about, Draco? I was a little busy there."

"I could see that," he sneered, pushing her into the wall. She gave no reaction to his roughness; it's what he needed to feel big and bad. No skin off her back. "Don't you think you're being a little _too _friendly with him?" He pressed himself against her, their lips almost touching.

"Not here," she said, shoving him away. "We'll get caught. And no, Draco, I don't think I'm being too friendly with Ron. He's one of my best friends and that's not going to stop just because _you _don't like it. I'm doing nothing wrong. Me and Ron are over, and nothing is going to change that. I don't want to be with him, Draco. I want _you_."

He was about to retort, when her last statement gave him pause.

"What did you say?"

"You heard me," she said firmly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Hermione, we agreed—"

"I know what we agreed, who says I'm straying from that? When I say want I mean just that. I _want _you, as in what we've been doing for the past two months."

"You can't get attached to me."

"I don't plan to."

"We're not a couple," he said, reaching forward and placing his hands gently on her face. She didn't resist him this time, allowing him to lean in and capture her lips. His hands traveled down to her hips, then wrapped powerfully around her waist, hugging her tightly to him. "Hermione, I've been thinking," he said when they had to pause for air. "Before, when we agreed that this would end after graduation—"

"Draco, there's no way we could keep this a secret after school. People will wonder why we don't date. It's too complicated. And besides, I don't want to be with you when school ends. I want to find someone to spend my life with, and that certainly isn't you."

"Right," he said, turning his head away. "Tonight's our last night of detention."

"I'm aware."

"We shouldn't let it keep going."

"I know," she sighed. "I was meaning to bring that up with you, but we never really…er…had time." She blushed slightly, averting her eyes. "We can just sneak out after hours like we've been doing anyway."

"That's what I was thinking." He grabbed her suddenly, as if he couldn't stand not to hold her, and kissed her passionately on the mouth. "Why do you have to be a halfling?" he murmured into the crook of her neck. He hadn't meant it in an insulting way, for once, but that's exactly how she took it. Shoving him back, she gave him a hard slap across the face, then stomped back into the Great Hall without waiting to see his reaction.

* * *

Hermione eventually got over her anger for Malfoy and, after detention ended, they started to sneak out every night to be together. Christmas came and went, and, one especially cold Februrary night, Hermione was creeping slowly through the Gryffindor common room, when she heard someone clear their throat in the darkness. She froze mid-step, too stunned to turn and see who it was.

"Where are you going, Hermione?" It was Harry. He stepped into the moonlight and snatched his Invisibility Cloak from her hands. "I've been watching you lately, and you've snuck out every night for the past month. And every time you manage to steal my Invisibility cloak. Now I want to know why and where you're going. What are you doing at night that's so secret?"

She found she was still too shocked to answer.

"Hermione!" he snapped. "Answer me!"

"I-I-I…I'm seeing someone," she blurted out, then clamped her hands over her mouth. How could she have just said that!

But, instead of getting angrier like she thought, Harry's frown broke into a wide grin.

"Really?" he laughed. "Who?"

"A…A Ravenclaw sixth year," she said off the top of her head. "I didn't tell anyone because his parents don't let him date and I don't want to get him in trouble."

"What's his name?"

"I can't tell you," she sighed. "I want to, trust me, I do," she said from her heart, meaning her fling with Draco, "but if anyone knew he'd get in such big trouble."

"Alright," he said, handing back his cloak. "Have fun." And then he disappeared back into the darkness of a common room. Hermione hesitated a good two minutes, then slipped out the porthole and scurried down the stairs. There was no way he'd bought all that. She would really have to watch her back from now on.

* * *

"Harry almost caught me tonight," Hermione said, her naked back leaning against Draco's bare chest. "We're going to have to figure out like a schedule or something."

"What do you mean _almost_?" he asked, leaning his head forward to look at her. And even with the apprehension in her voice, he still couldn't help but think of how beautiful she really was. How had he not seen that all these years? Why had completely disastrous relationships brought them together?

"He saw me sneaking out with his Invisibility cloak and said he'd seen me sneak out for a while."

"What did you tell him?"

"That I was seeing someone in secret," she laughed, tilting her head back to kiss under his chin. He had such an amazingly soft face for a man.

"Who?"

"A boy."

"He didn't ask who this boy was?" He doubted that very much. People as close as Harry and Hermione didn't let stuff slide.

"Of course he did. I told him it was a Ravenclaw sixth year that had really strict parents that didn't let him date."

"And he bought it?"

"I don't think so," she sighed, and Draco stiffened. He could not afford to have people find out about him and Hermione. "Don't worry, he's not going to follow me. He was skeptical, but he won't question me again, not for awhile at least. He has a lot more important things to worry about."

"You're sure? I can't—"

"You think I want people finding out either? Trust me, Draco. He doesn't know, and he never will. No one will, as long as we're safe about this."

"What time is it?"

"Time for me to go," she said, and went to crawl out of his bed and get dressed. But, just as she was reaching for her pants, he grabbed her around the waist and tossed her playfully back on the bed. "Draco!" she laughed, trying to get free of his grasp. "I have to go! I need to sleep sometime."

"Sleep here," he purred into her neck, giving her hot little kisses. "You can't go yet."

"Come on, Draco. I really do. It's almost three o'clock!"

"No," he said, tickling her stomach. She laughed so hard and loud that they both went completely silent for fear that those in the other rooms and the common room would wake and hear them. "Ok, fine," he sighed, finally letting her go. But this time it was her who tackled him to the soft mattress, kissing him with fevered passion.

"I guess I could stay until 3:30," she whispered, nipping his ear.

"I always knew you were like this," he laughed, hugging her as close to him as he could.

"Like what?"

"Incredible…"

* * *

Time at Hogwarts always flew by in the blink of an eye. One minute anxious students were boarding the train to the castle, and the next it was finals week and summer was just around the corner. For everyone but the seventh years the end of the year was a blessing; for them it meant growing up, getting jobs, and starting a real life. No more goofing around, no more being children.

The year had gone by so fast, but so much had happened. Hermione had started out in what she thought was a happy relationship with Ron, then doubted them, then was engaged, then she started sneaking around with Malfoy, then they broke-up, then she and Malfoy were exclusive, but secret. Add to that Heads' duties and schoolwork and she barely had time to breathe. And even though her last year was coming to an end, she couldn't help but be a little relieved. Once graduation was over she and Malfoy would end their fling and there would be no more paranoia about getting caught and ruining her life.

Her relationship with Ron had never been better. For the rest of the year they spent so much time together that rumors went around that they were back together, rumors that Malfoy was furious about. Several times he'd cornered Hermione and accused her of cheating on him. And she would say, "I already told you I only want you, Draco. Give me Truth Serum if you don't believe me," and that would be the end of it.

But other than those little bumps, things with Malfoy were perfect. They fought often, but nothing serious, and nothing that would make them stop seeing each other. Harry never questioned her again and so gradually she grew less tense until she didn't even think about getting caught anymore. It was almost like she and Malfoy were actually together, like Romeo and Juliet or something. Surprising the both of them, they actually had a lot in common and some nights they didn't even have sex, but stayed up talking. It had them both wondering how they would deal with the end of the year and their inevitable departure from each other, forever.

But that wasn't for another two weeks. And, at this very moment, Hermione had a little more on her mind than whether or not she could romp in the hay with Draco.

She sat on the ground by the lake, her back against a tree. It was a calm spring day, but it was supposed to rain later on. And, as she sat there, her legs drawn into her chest, she thought, "Rain seems fitting." She had told Harry and the others that she was studying for finals by the lake and needed to be alone to concentrate. "It's my future, I won't screw it up!" she'd snapped viciously when they laughed at her determination. And that was the truth, but that was not the reason she'd lashed out at them, nor was it the reason she wanted solitude. She hadn't even brought books out with her to create the illusion of studying.

After a good hour of silence and thinking, the sky opened up and it began to rain just as she knew it would. Not a heavy rain; nothing that would send her back inside. But just enough to dampen her body and send chills through her bones. But, again, she thought it was what she deserved. She should have known that doing bad would come back to haunt her. She had cheated on Ron and now this was her punishment.

"Help me," she whimpered into her knees, tears mixed with raindrops. "Someone help me…"

* * *

Draco walked determinedly across the lawn of Hogwarts Castle, the grass wet from the afternoon's rain. He had to find Hermione, and fast. It was almost the end of the year, almost too late. If he didn't tell her what was on his mind now then he never would.

He found her quickly enough, sitting by the lake, just staring out at the water. She didn't even notice him standing over her until he cleared his throat. And, even then, she hardly responded, as if she were a zombie.

"Granger," he said, finally catching her attention. He only called her that in public or when he was angry. "We need to talk."

"About?" She didn't feel like talking, to anyone.

"We said we would end this at the end of the year or when someone wants out."

"Yes," she answered.

"Well I want out."

"Ok."

"Ok?" he stammered, quite a bit more than shocked. "Just ok?"

"Yes," she sighed, her voice flat and emotionless. She was so drained from crying, and not really all that surprised that he would end it now. She'd been waiting for it all year. "Just ok. That's what we agreed. It's not like we're in love."

"Don't you even want to know why?"

She sighed again, then looked up at him, though not really seeing him. "Why, Draco?"

"I've been using you," he said matter-of-factly, expecting her to jump to her feet and punch him square in the jaw. Instead, however, she only nodded and looked back out at the lake. "Did you hear me?" he demanded, and grabbed her roughly by the arm, pulling her to her feet. "I was using you, Granger. Using you for sex and to get back at Pansy and to break you, because you can't be broken by anything I've ever done to you." He was shaking so much with anger that Hermione stared at him, actually concerned.

"I'm not mad," she said. "I was using you too, in a way. We used each other. And, as for breaking me—which I think is really childish by the way—I was already broken when we started being together. I do feel sorry for you though."

"Sorry for me?" he hissed, shoving her into the tree.

"Yes, Draco, sorry for you. Because you wanted so badly to hurt me just because everyone around you hurts you. It's pathetic. I'm not mad, I could never be mad at something that sad."

"I'll get you for this Granger," he said under his breath, then stalked away.

Hermione stared after him, watching his hurried steps and the way he yanked open the door then slam it shut again. And when she was sure he could no longer see her, she sank back down, buried her face in her knees again, and cried and cried and cried.

"You bastard," she whimpered, slamming her fists on the ground beside her. Of course she was angry and hurt and upset. She had really thought he'd changed, that he had wanted her too, not just to use her. She couldn't believe she'd been so blind, and when he told her she was so shocked she couldn't have acted upset even if she wanted to. So to save her dignity, she pretended like it didn't affect her and taunted him into leaving her to her sadness. "I trusted you and you ruined my life," she cried, and dropped her knees, hugging her belly. "What the hell am I going to do!"

* * *

Muahahaha! That's a cliffhanger if I ever saw one :P

Tell me what you thought :)

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Oh, by the way, the reason I skipped over so much time is because I have A LOT more planned out for this and nothing really important for the in-between. It'll make sense later :P


	9. Goodbye Hogwarts, Hello World

Recap:

"You bastard," she whimpered, slamming her fists on the ground beside her. Of course she was angry and hurt and upset. She had really thought he'd changed, that he had wanted her too, not just to use her. She couldn't believe she'd been so blind, and when he told her she was so shocked she couldn't have acted upset even if she wanted to. So to save her dignity, she pretended like it didn't affect her and taunted him into leaving her to her sadness. "I trusted you and you ruined my life," she cried, and dropped her knees, hugging her belly. "What the hell am I going to do!"

* * *

Chapter 9: Good-bye Hogwarts, Hello World

Hermione sat, knees knocking, at her desk, waiting for the proctoring professor to begin the exam. All around her there were students in varying states of nervousness, from chewing on the tips of their quills to tapping their fingers and feet compulsively. And though she was just as nervous, for once it was not about the test before her.

Across the room, Malfoy sat still, his eyes cast down at his desk, not once looking over at her. Surely he must at least still _want _her in the most primitive sense of the word. But, as she watched him—even after the exams were handed out and she had finished, knowing she would get perfect marks—she realized that he would not even attempt to look at her. He had been telling the truth two weeks before.

Angrily she turned her eyes off him and stuck her hand in the air for the professor to collect her exam. It was the last one in finals week, the third to last day she would have to be here with him, and then they would graduate and never have to see each other again.

But she wondered just how she was going to adjust to that.

"How was it?" Professor McGonagall whispered as she bent to retrieve the papers.

Hermione smiled warmly at her favorite professor and nodded. "Easy."

* * *

Standing in an alcove of the castle, Hermione kicked at the stones at her feet, her mind swirling with thought. For two weeks her predicament had been on a constant loop in her head. She had thought of numerous options, though they had repulsed her immediately, and therefore she settled on the only option she could, the one that would mean her life was over as she knew it. But, someone, the prospect of such a drastic change didn't scare her as much as she had thought. In fact, she was almost comfortable with the idea.

Finally, after twenty minutes, Malfoy emerged from the castle, walking casually down the steps and headed right for her. She knew he couldn't see her, and she didn't want him to.

When he had just about passed her, she reached out, grabbed the back of his robes, and yanked him into the recess with her.

"I was wondering when you would beg me to take you back," he laughed.

At this Hermione smirked, despite her more than terrible mood. She would wipe that smile clean off his pretty little face.

"I'm pregnant," she said bluntly, and gauged his reaction.

He continued to laugh.

"Malfoy," she said, smacking his chest, "I'm serious."

Still he would not stop laughing. That is, until he finally looked down at her and saw the truth in her eyes.

"How the hell did that happen!" he snapped, forcing himself not to grab her and slam her against the side of the building. "There's _no way _possible that that could have happened, Hermione! It's not mine!" But, somehow, he knew that it was, without a doubt, his child forming in her belly.

"You are the _only _person I've slept with since me and Ron broke up before Christmas. There's no way it _isn't _yours."

"You slept with me when you were with Weasley," he hissed, trying his best to control the volume of his voice. "How do I know you didn't do the same to me?"

Hermione clenched and unclenched her fists in an attempt to calm herself. She reminded herself that she had expected him to lash out at her and deny that he was the father.

"Because," she said through her teeth, "I was only with you because I was in a bad relationship with Ron. Me and you had no 'relationship' to speak of, nothing I wanted to run away from."

"You have to get rid of it," he said, crossing his arms over his broad chest and turning his head away.

"I don't think so!" she yelled, shoving him back and almost making him fall over. "I've been thinking this over for two weeks now and I decided—"

"Two weeks! You've known for two weeks and you're just now telling me!"

"I was going to tell you the day I found out," she said, lowering her voice, "but that just so happened to be the day you decided not to see me anymore."

"You said you weren't mad," he pointed out, narrowing his brow. But all he could think was: I'm going to be a father! A father!

"I wasn't," she lied. "I _just _found out when you came over to me, Draco. I really wasn't in the right state of mind."

"There's no way you can have this baby, Hermione," he said seriously, and took a step forward, as if he meant to hug her. "Not _my_ baby."

"I hardly think you should have a say in this," she retorted venomously. "I want this baby, Draco. I don't care if you're the father; that has nothing to do with it. I would have it no matter who the father was."

"Do you have any idea how much danger you would be putting yourself and the child in!" Draco snapped, losing his composure completely. "My family will hunt you down!"

"All because of some stupid blood?" she scoffed, turning her nose up at him.

"Yes, Hermione, because of blood! I can't let you put yourself or our child in danger!"

Hermione went to speak, but then, as his words sunk in, a wide smile spread across her features.

"You care about me, Draco. Don't you?" She had to stop herself from giggling. The very idea was just too much for her.

He frowned and turned away.

"Don't you?" she pressed, touching his arm lightly. He flinched and jumped back, as if she'd scalded him with her fingertips.

"Shut up Granger. There are more important things going on right now."

"I don't care what you say, Draco, I'm having this baby, with or without your consent. No one has to know it's yours. I'll tell everyone its Ron's, or a muggle from home. It doesn't matter. You don't have to be involved. I never expected that."

"You expect me to just ignore the fact that I'm going to father a child?" he demanded, baffled.

Hermione nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Screw you, Granger. How can you think that!"

"What!"

"Why wouldn't I want to be there for my child!"

Hermione was dumbstruck. Well this was certainly a huge surprise.

"I…er…I'm sorry Draco. I just didn't think it would be that big of a deal to you. Most guys would jump at the chance to be let off the hook."

"Merlin…" he muttered, shaking his head.

"Well…what if…" She took a step forward and gently grabbed his hands. He didn't even attempt to resist her. "What if I tell people its someone else's baby, but you can still come see him or her in secret?"

"You're insane, Granger," he sighed.

"But?"

"But it's the only thing that will work."

"And?"

"And what?"

"And you care about me."

"Shut up," he said, lacking all of his usual conviction. He closed the gab between them, cupping her face in his hands. "This really came back to bite us on the ass," he laughed sourly, chancing a kiss.

"Draco," she whispered, pulling her head away just before their lips touched. "I don't…I think we should keep from going down that road again."

He stepped back, his lips curled in an almost snarl.

"You're already pregnant, Hermione. What else could happen?"

"That's not the point and you know it. You told me two weeks ago that you were only using me. Why would I knowingly put myself back into a situation like that? We're just going to have to raise this baby like divorced parents."

"But—"

"There's no other way to do it, Draco."

He opened his mouth to retort, but then only sighed and shrugged his shoulders.

"When are you going to tell people?"

"I don't know yet..."

"Scared?"

"T-Terrified…"

* * *

Graduation came and went, the weeks following it filled with parties and dinners and last minute visits with friends before everyone went off to begin their own lives. Most of the muggle-born children were going to attend colleges and then go on. Others, like Harry and Ron, knew exactly what they wanted—which was to be Aurors—and therefore they would go to train for that. Everyone else, like Hermione and Draco, really couldn't think of anything more productive than applying for positions at the Ministry or Hogwarts Castle. Not being much of a people-person, Draco chose the Ministry, and got the job immediately; he would be starting sometime in July. Hermione, on the other hand, had always wanted to be a teacher, and after being accepted to Hogwarts, wanted nothing more than teaching there. But, in her condition and with no available positions, she was forced to go for second best—a Ministry job. And if she knew Draco half as well as she thought she did then it would be hell day after day with him making advances on her. Hopefully a job at Hogwarts would open up in a few years and she could work there. By then her son or daughter would be in school and so there would be no reason she couldn't get the job.

As the days rolled by, Hermione grew more apprehensive and skittish. She was just about a month pregnant and still hadn't seen a doctor or—worst of all—told a soul other than Draco. She would tell her parents first, and they would be a breeze compared to Harry, Ron, and Ginny. After much consideration she had decided to tell everyone that she made a _huge _mistake with a muggle boy from her old high school that she happened to bump into. She'd been feeling lonely and sad after her break-up with Ron because she didn't have anyone. The boy—whose name she won't even both to make-up—had only been in town for a few days to visit someone, and now lived somewhere else. When they would inevitably ask her who he was and why she wasn't involving him, she would say that he wasn't exactly the best of guys for her to be with and that she knew he wouldn't want the burden of a child and someone like that was _not _going to be around _her _baby.

It was a mild day in late June when Hermione finally worked up the courage to sit her parents down at tell them. It took her a good ten minutes to even begin to her the words out, and when she finally did, she was completely shocked to silence when she found that they already knew and weren't really so much mad as concerned for her.

"You knew?" she stammered, hugging her soon-to-be-swollen belly. "How!"

"I was pregnant with you when I was your age," her mother confessed, giving a small shy smile.

"What!"

"I acted the same way for about a month or so, until my parents finally pulled my aside and asked me what was wrong…And let me tell you," she laughed, "they were quite a bit more upset."

"Wait a minute," Hermione said, still unsure of what she was hearing. No, it couldn't be right. "You're telling me that you were pregnant with me at seventeen? And you're not mad!"

"We understand what you're going through," her father said, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "How could we be mad?"

"Is Ron the father?"

"Mom!"

"Well is he?"

This was _not _happening!

"No, he's not," she sighed, looking down. "Me and Ron are…are just friends." Even if they weren't angry and screaming at the top of their lungs at her, it was still hard to not feel ashamed. Here she was, seventeen years old, and telling her parents that she not only slept with her ex-fiancé Ron, but another man who got her pregnant with a child that she intended to keep.

"Then who is it?"

"I…" she began, then looked up, forcing herself to look at her parents. She took a deep breath, then told them the story she had worked out in her mind, taking no pauses or breaths. When she finished, there was a deep and agonizing silence. "Say something," she begged, casting her eyes down again. "Please."

"You don't want him involved?" her mother asked, purposely keeping her voice neutral.

"He's not a good person," she said, not lying entirely. This was Draco Malfoy she was talking about after all. "Like I said, he doesn't even live around here, and, even if he did, I wouldn't want him involved in his or her life. I mean that."

"This is what you really want?" her father asked, showing her nothing but pure sympathy. She knew he wanted there to be a father, another man he could confide in, a father for the child. How she wished she could tell them the whole truth, that the father _was _going to see his child and raise him or her with her, be there for every special moment. When had she become a secretive daughter?

"Yes daddy," she sighed. "I really do."

* * *

Ron walked into the Leaky Cauldron and took a seat at the bar. He was early for their meeting, so he ordered a butter beer and grabbed a handful of peanuts.

"Ron?"

He turned around abruptly, dropping the nuts on the counter when he came face to face with Harry and his little sister Ginny.

"What are you two doing here?" he all but demanded, though he didn't mean to sound rude.

"Hermione told us to come," Ginny said, hoisting herself on the stool beside her brother.

"Me too," Ron said, furrowing his brow. If she didn't want to speak to him in private about _their _relationship, then he had no clue what this could possibly be about.

"Did she tell you what was going on?" Harry asked.

"No," came a voice from behind them. They whirled around to find Hermione standing, her hair still wet from her shower, with a sad smile playing on her lips. "I didn't."

" 'Mione," Harry beamed, kissing her cheek quickly. "What's going on? You look like hell."

"I can always count on you for a compliment, Harry," she laughed. Then her face darkened and she glanced at the staircase to their left. "I rented a room upstairs," she said, catching their attention immediately. "This really should be in private."

After about five minutes of stalling, and with everyone settled, Hermione could no longer remain silent. Her three best friends in the whole world sat, ears perked, on the bed; she opted to stand by the door, just incase she felt the need to flee during the inevitable argument. She knew that immediately they would think it was Ron's child inside her. Even Ron himself would think that in his baffled confusion, though he knew full well that they hadn't slept together since before Christmas and there was no way he could possibly be the father.

"First of all," she said, clearing her throat, "I love you guys. You're the best thing in my life. Without you I don't think I would have been able to make it seven years at Hogwarts. Especially with Snape on my back all the time." She chuckled uncomfortably, and looked up. Her friends' faces were stone cold and solemn. They knew this was completely serious now.

"What's going on, Hermione?" Ginny asked; the question that was on the tip of everyone's tongue.

"Before I tell you, you have to understand that I can't tell you everything." As if on cue, they all raised their eyebrows in question. "You'll understand when I tell you."

"Hermione?" She looked to Ron, whose face said all he was thinking. "Tell us."

"You have to give me a chance to explain," she said quickly, as if they were denying her that chance even before they knew what she was talking about.

"Right now," Harry said, "all we want to know it what you have to say. We can put our input in when you're done."

"Ok," she sighed, closing her eyes in an attempt to prepare herself for the end.

The entire room seemed to tense.

It was so quiet Hermione swore she could hear everyone's individual heartbeats.

"I'm pregnant…"

* * *

That was_the_ worst cliffhanger in the history of the world! Hahaha! Now you _have _to come back for more :P Evil author!

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	10. Baby Boom

Recap:

It was so quiet Hermione swore she could hear everyone's individual heartbeats.

"I'm pregnant…"

* * *

Chapter 10: Baby Boom

Ron opened his eyes at the feel of soft warm hands touching his face. Hermione was leaning over him, his head cradled in her lap. For a moment, he had no idea what was going on. And then, as he took in his surroundings, he remembered everything and shot up.

"Calm down," she said in a calm, soothing voice. She pulled him back and held him to her chest. "Think for a minute."

He did as he was told, for what else could he do?

"It's not mine," he said, looking up at her. "It can't be."

"I know," she agreed, allowing him to move away from her this time and climb to his feet. She followed suit, crossing her arms almost protectively over her chest. "If it was I'd be about to burst right now."

"Then whose?" His voice only sounded slightly hurt. He hadn't known she was seeing someone else.

Everyone's eyes were suddenly on Hermione, who stood, one foot on top of the other, in a simple yellow cotton sundress. Her cheeks were pink with what could have easily been mistaken for warmth. But the occupants of the room knew the truth. She was glowing with the formation of another human being inside of her.

"I…" She hesitated, catching Harry's eyes. And she was so startled, she almost couldn't continue. Was he _angry _with her? Both Ron and Ginny showed nothing but concern and a great deal of shock. But anger? Not at all. "I can't say," she whispered, looking at the floor.

"Why not?" Harry spat. She glanced up at him, then back at the floor. There was no question now—he was flat out mad. And this didn't go unnoticed by the others, but they weren't about to try to calm him. Over the years they'd come to realize that Harry was prone to sudden bursts of unexplained anger. No one blamed him, and no one got in his way. That was just the way he was. Only this time, he seemed completely out of line. Unless, of course, he knew something Ron and Ginny did not.

"He's a muggle," she managed to push out, not able to make eye contact with anyone. "From home…"

"What happened to the Ravenclaw sixth year?"

Shit! she swore in her head. She'd forgotten all about _that _lie.

"What Ravenclaw sixth year?" Ron stammered. Ginny pouted out her bottom lip, looking equally as hurt as her brother.

"She was seeing someone in the middle of the night all this year after you two split," Harry informed them with a sneer.

"He found someone else," she said quickly. "I wasn't really that into him anyway. He was a rebound."

Ron sighed and smiled a little. He didn't know why this made him happy, but it just did. She was moving on and finding other people, searching for that true love she wanted so badly; and he was happy for her.

"Then who is this muggle?" Clearly he wasn't buying it, just like he hadn't bought her lie about the Ravenclaw boy. She wondered why he never tried to speak with her privately about it.

"I don't know what I was thinking," she whispered, meaning every word. She hadn't known what she was thinking when she slept with Draco. And now this was the price she had to pay. Her son or daughter would hate her for it. They could never truly know their father, could never have a real family. "I was so depressed and lonely…I just latched onto him…But he's gone now."

"Gone?" Ginny asked, confused. "Gone where?"

"I don't know. He was only in town for a little while, visiting someone. He lives in another country, I think. I'll never see him again, and I don't want to. He was a mistake and I don't want him involved in my baby's life." She surprised herself with how much of what she was saying was actually true. She really didn't want to see Draco again, to have to be reminded all the time of her infidelity to Ron. And he was a mistake, and she did regret it and allowing herself to almost get attached to him. But she did want him involved with their child, to be a father, and a good father. She refused to raise another Slytherin-bound baby.

"What's his name?"

Hermione stiffened and met his eyes. She wanted to look away immediately, but held his gaze, staying strong. Nothing was worse to her than Harry being angry with her. _Nothing_.

"It's not important," she insisted, flinching only slightly when his eyes lit up with rage.

"Not important!"

This time, everyone flinched, and it was almost too much for Hermione to hold back her tears. If she could get out of this without crying then she had not completely lost.

"You're lying," he accused, turning away.

"Harry!" Ron and Ginny yelled in unison, astonished at his behavior. Not even _Malfoy _got him this worked up.

"Harry please," Ron sighed, placing a careful hand on his best friend's shoulder. "Isn't she under enough stress? She said he was no good. Why do we have to know who he is?" Of course he wanted to know too, but clearly she did not want this person in her life—ever. She was smart enough to raise and handle a child without the father; he knew that as much as the others did. Besides, there was no way she wouldn't have their help, whether she wanted it or not. Harry would cool down eventually and come around. It was all a matter of time. Everything was a matter of time.

Harry dropped his tense shoulders and let out a great sigh. He looked up at his friends, defeated.

"This is really what you want?"

"Yes Harry," Hermione said quickly, just happy to have his voice back to normal. "More than anything." She paused, weighing her options in the situation at hand, the Harry situation that is. "Do I have your blessing?"

A pin could have sounded like thunder in the silence of the room.

And then, startling them all, Harry smiled and chuckled softly, as if contemplating a previously-told funny joke. He approached Hermione some ten feet away and pulled her gently to him.

"Of course," he said, kissing her forehead. "I just wish the situation was better for you." He was still angry, still hurt, but he was beginning to accept her fate. After all, how could he stay mad at her forever?

"It's my only choice," she said truthfully. Either that, or risk her life, Draco's life, and the life of their future child. And nothing in the world could make her risk any of them. Draco deserved a good slap every now and then to set him straight, but to be in imminent danger? To come close to death or die? No, not even Draco deserved that. "Harry." She looked up, soothed by the sight of his calmed green eyes. "I want you and Ginny to be my baby's God parents should anything—"

"Hermione," he said, his voice stern. "Nothing is going to—"

"We agree," Ginny piped in as she came over and swung her arms around her best friend and boyfriend. Ron sighed with relief and joined the group, kissing Hermione a good-natured kiss on the cheek. "And congratulations 'Mione. You're going to be a great mother."

"Yeah!" Ron laughed. "And good luck. It's going to be a Granger, and that means hellraiser." Hermione couldn't help but laugh.

"Harry?"

"I hope you're happy, Hermione," he said genuinely. She didn't think his heart could get any bigger and not burst.

"I am," she whispered, her face lit up with a bright smile. "I really am."

* * *

18 Months Later…

Hermione yawned deeply and sat up in bed. She shut off her alarm and smiled. She had slept the _entire _night through without once having to get up for a crying baby.

In the year and a half after everyone knew her condition, Hermione had been quite the busy-bee. She now lived in a modest-looking apartment in the heart of London, only a few blocks from the Ministry, where she worked. Every morning, if the weather was favorable, she would walk to work, enjoying the freedom and fresh air. She hadn't thought that being on her own—and with such huge responsibilities—would give her such a soothing calm, but, then again, she was Hermione Granger, a girl who lived for her work.

Throwing on her bathrobe, Hermione headed down the hall to the nursery, a pastel-colored, plush-stuffed wonderland for any child. She knew her diligent work ethic at school would pay off in the end—her paycheck was quite more than adequate for what she needed.

"Mommy is so proud you slept all night," she said, leaning over the side of the cradle. Two wide blue eyes stared up at her, and then, right after, a set of sleepy chocolate brown eyes. "Daddy's going to be happy about that." She reached into the crib, but stopped, sensing a disturbance behind her. Her hand went instinctively to her robe pocket. Her finger just grazed the wand's handle, when Draco stepped into her line of vision, relaxing her immediately. "You're early," she remarked. "The girls just got up. And they slept the whole night through," she added, beaming with pride.

"So I heard." He went to the crib, looking down at his two plump and healthy baby girls, only two months away from their first birthday. Everyone had been surprised, to say the least, when Hermione gave birth to twins, two girls—one with brown eyes and one with blue. They all wondered where the blue eyes came from, and to that Hermione had replied, "They're her father's."

"Did you have any trouble getting here?"

Draco groaned and pulled the brown-eyed baby from the cradle.

"Scarlet," he said to his daughter, who responded to him with a spirited giggle and kick of her chubby little legs. "Why does your mother always insist on asking me that?"

"I don't know," Hermione mocked, and followed suit, picking up the remaining baby. "Jade," she said, smiling when the blue-eyed baby smiled up at her. "Why does your father have to be such an—"

"No trouble," he said, laughter behind his voice. "No one knows how and where I spend my personal time. Besides, who would need to contact me at seven in the morning?"

"Draco," she sighed, heading for the door to start breakfast. "You know why I'm so cautious about that."

"Cautious?" he scoffed. "More like paranoid."

Hermione gritted her teeth and placed Jade in the crayon green highchair next to the kitchen table. Draco held back his chuckle, and set Scarlet in the red highchair.

"You shouldn't risk coming here so often." Though, in truth, she would have liked him there all the time. He was more than helpful with the girls. In the beginning—before the babies were born—he had only come around maybe twice a month to check in on her, though he knew very well that she was fine from having seen her at work. Now that Scarlet and Jade were in their lives, he came over almost every other day. It seemed nothing could separate him from his daughters. Who would have guessed Draco Malfoy could be a father? And a great one at that.

"They're my children too," he said, cracking an egg into the frying pan. Hermione fished through the cabinets for two jars of baby food. "I should be living here, seeing them every minute."

"You're the one that was so worried about risk in the beginning," she pointed out, referring to the fateful day when she told him she was pregnant.

"That was before they—" He motioned to their impatient, giggling daughters who slapped lazily at each other across the room. "—came into the picture. I would risk a hell of a lot more for them." The passion and conviction in his voice gave her pause. She set the jars of food on the kitchen counter, staring at the man that was the father of her children. In the year and a half they'd been out and on their own, she had done an amazing job of staying away from him in every sense, other than that pertaining to her daughters. Not that she didn't want to be with him, fiery and wanted under the covers, but going through that door meant going through so many others.

But now, his love and devotion for his baby girls laid out so plain and proudly, she could not help but wonder what it would be like to have that sort of relationship with Draco again. Everything was different now; they had two babies who they were raising together. It would no longer be about having intimacy with someone else—they could both very well find anyone they wanted in London. But the thing was that neither had so much as gone on a date.

She shook her head and turned away, clearing her thoughts. He was just the kind of distraction she did not need in her life right now. She had work and the babies, and, of course, the all-encompassing threat of Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Besides, at this point in her life, she wanted to find someone she could love and who could love her in return. Draco Malfoy was certainly _not _that someone.

After they finished breakfast, Hermione went to get ready for work, while Draco dressed and changed the twins. By the time they were finished, they still had a good twenty minutes before the babysitter was due to arrive, and another half an hour before work started. Hermione always thought it was silly that Draco needed to stay until the moment the babysitter arrived every time he came over in the morning, but she didn't protested. After all, he was right—they were his children too.

"We need to start thinking about a school for the girls," Hermione said out of the blue, breaking the deep silence that had set in while they waited. They didn't really talk about much that didn't pertain to the children. And there was a _very _good reason for that.

"Hogwarts," Draco replied without a second thought, looking down at Scarlet in his lap, her curly mop of blonde hair framing her beautiful face perfectly. Jade, who was asleep in her mother's arms, had blonde hair as well, though they both figured it would darken as they got older. The only distinction between the two girls was their eyes.

"I mean in a few years. They can't go to Hogwarts until they're eleven."

"There are no schools bef—No!" he snapped in realization. "_My _daughters are not going to a _muggle _school!"

"Draco," she sighed, remaining calm. She knew this is what his reaction would be. Luckily for her, their girls were used to their parents' bickering and were able to ignore it. "Scarlet and Jade are part muggle, whether you like it or not. That's what comes with having a muggle-born mother. They spend time with my parents, Draco, what did you expect? I want them to have an upbringing like I did, because they certainly can't have one like yours."

He scowled, but said nothing. She was right, of course. For their daughters to have an upbringing like him they would have to know _his _parents, which was never going to happen. They would have to be brought up with both heritages, no matter how much he hated it.

"You find a damn school then," he murmured, his eyes still on his daughter.

"That's what I figured," she said.

Draco's head snapped in her direction, his teeth barred like an angry puppy.

"Don't assume you know me," he spat. "I want to be involved in every aspect of their lives, but there are some things that I just can't do."

"What is it about muggles that bother you so much?"

"Just drop it, Hermione. Their last name is Granger, that's muggle enough."

"Draco," she sighed, placing a cautious hand on his shoulder. He flinched and brushed her away. "Don't be cold with me."

"_I _am being cold?" he laughed, then leaned in, catching her eyes and holding them. He was so close, almost close enough to kiss her, when she pulled back and adjusted Jade in her arms.

"Drac—"

"Point proven."

* * *

Harry brushed stray, wind-blown hairs out of Hermione's face, following her eyes to the sandbox where her daughters played with Ron and Ginny. He knew what she must be thinking: I have the most gorgeous children in the world. And she was absolutely right.

"They're going to ask questions when they get older," Harry said, as if continuing a conversation they'd been having, when in fact he'd only just come over to her. It was harder than he thought to tear himself away from the girls.

"I know," Hermione sighed, looking to her best and most trusted friend. If she had to tell anyone about Draco, it would be Harry. But, of course, that would never happen. And she wondered what would happen when the girls started talking. Would they mention their father? Would someone put two and two together and figure it all out?

"Hermione." He took her hands in his, catching her full attention. "There's something I want to tell you."

Her heart quickened. No, she thought, he's figured it out already!

"Me and Gin were going to wait until after all the wedding next month, but I wanted you to be the first to know."

"Know what?" Now she was completely confused. What was he talking about?

A sly smile crept across his features, and he leaned in, whispering, "Ginny's pregnant. We're going to be parents!"

"I—" But for a moment she was at a complete loss for words. "Harry, that's wonderful." Nothing could have controlled the smile on her lips. She was truly happy for her friends. And now their children could play together! It was going to be perfect! "How far along is she?"

"A month or so." He was almost talking through his teeth his smile was so wide. "We're going to get the family together next week and tell them." And by family he meant the Weasleys.

"So Ron doesn't even know yet?"

"No," he said, his tone of voice telling her that he wanted it to stay that way. "Look 'Mione, I don't know what I'd do without you. You're the best friend a guy could ask for. I want you to be involved in everything in my life, I want you to _know_ everything."

A sharp pang of guilt coursed through her. She wanted him to know everything in her life too.

"I love you Harry," she said, kissing him sweetly on the cheek. "But I think your fiancée misses you." She waved to Ginny in the sandbox, who beamed and waved back. Now she knew why she looked so familiar; she looked exactly the way Hermione had when she was pregnant.

"Duty calls," he laughed, and jogged the short distance to her.

Hermione sighed heavily and looked on, longing to be completely and shamelessly honest with everyone she loved.

"Draco Malfoy," she whispered, her eyes falling instinctively on Jade and Scarlet, the giggles carried away in the summer breeze. "You are the best and the worst thing that's ever happened to me…"

* * *

What shall I do next? Muhahahahaha!

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	11. Don't Speak

Recap:

Hermione sighed heavily and looked on, longing to be completely and shamelessly honest with everyone she loved.

"Draco Malfoy," she whispered, her eyes falling instinctively on Jade and Scarlet, the giggles carried away in the summer breeze. "You are the best and the worst thing that's ever happened to me…"

* * *

Chapter 11: Don't Speak 

Draco sat in silence in his living room, the only light coming from the streetlamps just outside his window. It was almost eleven o'clock at night, leaving a good eight hours before he could see his daughters again. For most of the evening after work he had been sitting in semi-darkness, his thoughts scattered and lonesome. When had his life become so empty? Of course he had Scarlet and Jade, but if they were not in his life then he would be absolutely alone. His parents only used him, his friends all abandoned him, his co-workers could care less what became of him, and Hermione—bright-eyed beautiful Hermione—only cared about him in relation to their children. He was nothing to her other than the sperm-provider for the miracles that came from her; not a love interest, not even a sexual interest. She regarded him in the same manner in which you would regard a stray cat.

The clock struck eleven and he looked up, barely able to make out the shape of the great grandfather clock on the other side of the room. Hermione would probably just be getting to bed right now, exhausted from a day at work and an evening of caring for the girls. Only a few times had Draco seen his children other than the earlier morning or when she brought them into the office. He understood her caution—hell, he was the one who laid the ground rules—but after all this time he still couldn't stop putting himself first.

He wanted something, and he would get it.

* * *

Only ten minutes after Hermione was nestled under the covers, the lights in her room were back on, and she sat on Draco's chest on the floor, her wand jabbed into his throat. 

"What the hell!" she hissed, climbing off him, trying her best to keep her voice low so not to wake the babies. "I almost cursed you! What are you doing here? It's eleven o'clock at night, the girls are asleep."

"I didn't come here to see them," he sighed, rubbing his neck as he took a seat on the edge of her bed. "I came to see you."

"Shit! Your parents—"

"Just shut up for a minute!" he demanded, reaching out and pulling her to sit beside him. "It has nothing to do with anyone but me and you."

Hermione only stared at him, completely lost.

"Draco, why did you come to see me?"

But, instead of answering in words, he pulled her roughly to him, their lips fitting together like jigsaw puzzle pieces. Hermione's first instinct was to submit, her body and mind familiar with the man now on top of her. But then reality struck hard and she pushed him off, pressing her back against the headboard.

"Get out," she breathed, not looking at him. She couldn't let him see the desire in her eyes. But this had nothing to do with lust—they were completely wrong for each other!

"No," he said, and slid closer, placing a bold hand on her bare knee. She slapped his hand and drew in her legs, pulling her nightshirt to her ankles. But he persisted, finally coming to sit right next to her, their hips touching, and his hands on her face, forcing her to meet his eyes.

"Why are you doing this?" she half-whimpered just before their lips touched.

"Because," he answered, kissing her sweetly and sending a cold and satisfying chill through her, "I want you and you want me." He kissed her again, this time more powerfully, one hand moving to her lower back to hold her tight. "You can't deny it, Hermione. It's in everything you do. You can barely look at me without betraying yourself with the desire in your eyes."

"Just because I want you," she admitted, "doesn't mean I need you, or that we should do this. We're already in enough danger now. You can't spend any more time here."

"Let me have you," he whispered, kissing her neck, the intoxicating scent of his hair and body invading her senses. "Just once more."

"Draco," she pleaded, weakly pushing at him. "Please."

"Hermione," he said, looking directly into her eyes and finding the truth.

"Just tonight," she caved, and eased under the wonderful pressure of his body. He was the last man she had slept with, the only one she wanted to sleep with now.

"If that's what you want."

"It's what _has to _happen," she said sternly, grabbing his head. "Otherwise we'll get lost in it and lose sight of what's really important."

"And what's that, love?" he purred, his want clouding her fear.

But in the interest of retaining the moment, she silenced him with a powerful kiss, and they sank into the softness of the bed.

* * *

At seven, when Hermione had to get up for work, she opted to lie in bed until Scarlet or Jade voiced their wakefulness. Beside her Draco slept, his head resting on her shoulder and his body curled into hers. It still amazed her to watch him in his sleep, his face soft and his brows un-knit and peaceful. His platinum blonde hair was mussed and stuck out all over, but he was still gorgeous. After two minutes of staring at him, she couldn't take it anymore, and kissed his forehead, knowing that this would wake him. 

"Morning beautiful," she laughed when he opened his eyes and glared up at her, a deep yawn escaping his lips. But before he could snap at her, she slid down and kissed him full on the mouth, her fingers going up into his silky locks.

"I _was_ having a good dream," he said when they parted for a moment, "but I think I woke up to something wholly better."

"I missed this," Hermione sighed shamelessly. But when Draco went to kiss her again, she slipped away and out of the bed, pulling her robe over her naked body.

"If you missed it," he said huskily, throwing back the covers, "then come get it."

"Come on." She snatched his discarded pants off the floor and threw them to him. "Get dressed and help me with the girls."

She was out the door before he could protest. He found her a few moments later, and hobbled into the nursery, one leg through the wrong pant leg.

"What the hell Herm—"

"Don't start with me," she groaned, rolling her eyes, as if he were just another thing she had to "deal with". Draco had a sinking suspicion that that was exactly right. "I told you just once, and I meant it. After the babysitter gets here you're gone for a few days." She reached into the crib and lifted out the child that was closest to her, that being little brown-eyed Scarlet. "And I don't want to see you at night again. I won't let you put our children in danger just because you're too lazy to find someone else to sleep with."

"That is _not _the reason I came here last night!" he hissed, not daring to go near the crib in his anger.

"Look, Draco, I know how you feel."

"Oh really?"

"Yes. I want you and only you. I haven't dated because of it, but it'll pass. My mind thinks I need to be with the father of my children; it's instinct. Maybe I should just sleep with someone to get past it. Then I can date and find who I'm really supposed to be with."

"Hermione!"

"Draco," she mocked, then motioned towards Jade, who stood clinging to the side of the crib, waiting for someone to pick her up. Draco sighed and obliged, cradling his blue-eyed babe.

"Would you just hear my reasoning?"

"Draco!"

Their eyes widened and they looked down at the baby in Hermione's arms. Scarlet smiled back at them, her tiny hands clapping together.

"Draco!" she repeated, giggling and kicking her feet.

"Did she—" he stammered, coming to Hermione's side. "She said my name!"

"Scarlet, baby," Hermione said, completely forgetting her and Draco's little dispute. "Say it again."

"Say Draco," Draco urged.

But Scarlet only stared up at them, a wide toothless grin on her little mouth.

"She said my name," he sighed, smiling and kissing Hermione on the cheek. "She said—Hermione, this is unbelievable. I feel…I don't know. Do you know what I mean?"

Hermione smirked and hugged Scarlet to her.

"That's my girl." But then her face dropped in a look of horror and she took a step back, leaning against the cradle for support.

"What?" Draco demanded, feeling the nervousness she was emanating.

"She said Draco," she whispered, her eyes staring and seeing nothing. "Draco…She said—"

"Hermione!"

"Draco!" Scarlet giggled.

At this she broke down and her tears fell like an angry rain.

"She said your name," she said again. "She said it and she'll say it again. She…" But she trailed off, her shoulders going lax. "She's going to rat us out, Draco. Everyone will know. They—"

"Hemmie!"

In Draco's arms, it was little Jade whose voice they had just heard. And though Hermione was devastated and terrified, she couldn't help but smile and cover her baby with kisses. It wasn't exactly her name, but she knew what she was trying to say. And when she said it again her heart melted and slowly, her arms securely around Scarlet, she sank to the floor.

Draco kneeled down beside her, kissing her forehead.

"Hermione," he said, catching her eyes.

"What?" she whispered, her voice small and strained. "What?"

"I will not let a single hair be harmed on any of your heads. No one will touch you. No one will even look crossly at you." He sat down next to her, wrapping an arm around her in a half-hug. Hermione was too stunned to realize his caring and compassion. "I will protect you."

"I hope you can," was all she could say. "I hope you can."

* * *

Draco apparated into his kitchen, going directly to the refrigerator for a calming glass of orange juice. When the second his fingers touched the handle, he sensed someone present in the room. Immediately he reached for his wand, and turned on his heal, pointing it at the chest of his laughing mother. 

"I'd lower that if I were you," she said, her laughter dropping like an anvil. "Where have you been?"

"Around," he muttered, placing his wand none too gently on the countertop. "What are you doing? Spying on me?" His voice was calm and monotone, but inside fear coursed through him like quicksilver. He hadn't even considered the fact that his parents would be suspicious of his actions. Hell! He didn't think they gave him a second thought unless there was something in it for them.

"I came here at seven o'clock in the morning three months ago," she said, straightening her back and sounding as if she were reading from cue cards. But he knew his mother all too well. She was working something out in her head. And she was angry. "You weren't here," she informed him, as if he didn't already know where the story was going. "I came again a few days later to find you absent again. And so on." She crossed her arms over her robe-clad chest, her eyes shrinking and hardening—they looked like two tiny pieces of coal. "Where do you keep going before work, son?"

"I don't live with you anymore," he snapped, though his almost frantic hand gestures betrayed the image he was trying to project. "I don't have to answer to you. I don't have to tell you a damn thing!"

"Temper, temper," she cackled. "But," she sighed, dropping her arms to her sides, "have it your way. Your father and I know you're up to something. We're your parents, dear." Her mock concern did nothing for either of them; he wondered why she bothered. "We only want what's best."

"For you," he sneered, and yanked open the fridge for that orange juice he'd wanted. "Get out of my house. I need to get ready for work."

"Of course." She turned her back on him, and was nearly out the door, when she paused and looked at him over her shoulder, a small devious smile playing on her haunting features. "You really should change out of those day-old clothes."

And then she was gone.

* * *

In the end Draco decided _not_ to mention his little encounter with his mother to Hermione. It would only make her more paranoid, and what she should be focusing on was her work and children. He would worry about his parents when he felt the need to. As of now they only suspected he was doing something they would disapprove of. 

"They have no idea," he thought, twirling his quill between two fingers, a stack of documents on the desk before him. He'd been at work for three hours and hadn't touched a single piece of parchment. By lunchtime, he was so deep in thought that he didn't notice people leaving for lunch from the windows of his modest-sized office.

But as much as he wanted to tell himself Hermione and the girls were safe, he knew that eventually someone would discover their secret and they would all be in danger. And no matter how good they were both at magic, he highly doubted they stood a chance against his parents. This didn't mean he was going to tell her about their suspicions, only that he would be more cautious and pay attention to the signs given off when he was around his family. If they knew something he was determined to find out what. And if they knew the truth, then he would soon find out. Because no matter how much the Malfoys loved to tease and prolong their victories, they would never be able to sit on such information without taking fatal action.

"I have to protect them," he murmured into the tip of the quill.

The only question was: How?

* * *

"I can't believe our little wonders are turning one tomorrow," Hermione beamed, glancing over at Draco on the other side of the crib. It was nearing midnight—their daughters' birthday—and neither parent showed signs of leaving the nursery any time soon. 

Because it was a special occasion, Hermione permitted Draco to be there at night, and also agreed to let him stay there through the night and until her family and friends arrived the next day. But she of course laid some ground rules first. One: there was to be no sexually physical contact between her and Draco. Two: he had to sleep downstairs on the couch. Three: he had to leave the instant people started to arrive for the birthday party. And four: if he broke any of the aforementioned rules she was allowed to curse him.

"I can't believe it's been a whole year," she sighed. When Draco didn't respond, she reached over and jabbed his shoulder. "Draco?"

"Hmm?"

"What are you thinking about?" She didn't like the contemplative look on his face as he watched their daughters slumber peacefully.

"Them," he said monotone, not looking at her. She grabbed his face this time, forcing their eyes to meet.

"Swear," she said, her suspicion rising to dangerous levels.

"I swear," he answered truthfully—of course he was thinking about the babies. What he didn't tell her—what she needed to know—was that he was trying to figure a foolproof way to ensure their safety. He had yet to come up with even one idea. Everything he thought of raised all sorts of unanswerable questions. "We can't keep this a secret forever," he said after a long pause, regretting it immediately. When Hermione didn't fly off the handle and demand they go into hiding, he said, "We'd be kidding ourselves if we thought we could. The question is: Do we tell them? Or let them find out on their own?"

"Either way," she sighed, "we lose."

"No," he said through his teeth, gripping the side of the crib as if he would use it as a weapon. "We have the girls. No one can take that fact away from us."

"We have something else too," she said, lowering her eyes.

"What?" But the second he asked he knew exactly what she was talking about.

"Each other."

* * *

Do I sense a spark? Hmmmmm? Heehee! Not telling:P

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	12. Truth and Consequence

Recap:

"We have something else too," she said, lowering her eyes.

"What?" But the second he asked he knew exactly what she was talking about.

"Each other."

* * *

Chapter 12: Truth and Consequence

Hermione sighed deeply and tucked her hands under her head. Beside her, Draco slept peacefully, his silvery blonde hair shimmering in the light of the small candle she burned on the nightstand. But, no matter how amazing and perfect their night had been, Hermione could not help but feel a crippling sense of guilt. Draco was spending the night in her house, _again_. The more he stayed here, the more their children were in danger of his parents.

The thought of her babies being in any sort of danger was almost too much for her heart to handle. If she worried about them too much she'd never get anything done. But, if she didn't worry about them as much then she wouldn't feel like a good mother. Already, with who their father was, she felt she'd betrayed them in some way. No matter what Scarlet and Jade would been in danger of the purebloods and Voldemort-followers, but the fact that their father _was_ a pureblood put them at the top of the list. And that was the number one reason Hermione used to justify her lie to her friends and family.

"Stupid purebloods," she heard herself mutter, then blew out the candle and curled into Draco's warm body, telling herself that tonight was the last night.

* * *

"I want to come back when everyone leaves," Draco said, his eyes on Jade as he wiped the strained squash from her face for the hundredth time that morning.

Beside him Hermione sighed, silently grateful that Scarlet was a relatively clean baby when it came to eating. Baths, on the other hand, were where she excelled at messes.

"Is there a problem with that?" He looked over at her, knowing that there was. He also knew that from the moment they woke up that morning she'd been dying to get him out of the house. She regretted their night last night, but how much he was about to find out.

"Of course there is," she said, her voice calm, as if they were having a pleasant conversation about the weather.

"Mind sharing?"

"You know damn well what the problem is, Draco. Don't play games with me today, I am _not _in the mood."

"You never were," he scoffed, then stood and lifted Jade into his arms. Hermione followed suit, cursing the fact that she could never really show him just how angry she was with the girls around.

"How can you pretend that there's no threat to your daughters' lives!" she hissed, trudging after him into the bathroom, where he sat on the edge of the tub and began to draw a bath.

"Do you really think I would purposely put them in danger!" he countered, his anger rising at her suggestion. "You never trusted me, Hermione! Never! Well, what have I done to you that would make you think I would put my own flesh and blood in danger? I have loved those girls since the moment they were born and _nothing _in this world could make me bring them to harm. I am _not_ the Draco you knew at Hogwarts."

Hermione fell silent, her eyes shifting to the slowly-filling tub.

"I take it by your silence that you have nothing to say to me."

"You can't blame me for being afraid for them," she sighed, taking a seat opposite him and testing the water. "I'm their mother, and a muggle-born. They're in twice as much danger simply because I'm their mother."

"I have the same fears as you, Hermione. _I _am their father, and I know exactly how you feel, but if we go through life constantly worrying then we'll never be happy."

"You never were happy," she pointed out, then turned away and eased Scarlet into the tub, her little legs kicking with excitement. "Draco Malfoy and happy don't belong in the same sentence."

"You're right," he said sourly. "I probably don't deserve to be happy as much as others, but I can try. Hermione." He reached out with his free hand, the one that wasn't supporting Jade's back in the tub, and took Hermione's free hand. "These girls have changed my life. Without them I wouldn't even entertain the idea of being happy. And without them I…I wouldn't have you."

His words were so blunt and startling that it took her a moment to absorb them.

"You'll never have me, Draco," she said, just as honestly. "You lost that chance when you decided to use me. I do believe you've changed, and I have forgiven you for all I've needed to in order to have you in my life as their father, but I don't think I could ever forget."

"Hermione—"

"Draco, you need to go. People are going to start arriving in an hour."

"Marry me, Hermione."

For a long while she simply stared at him, unsure if he'd spoken the words her ears heard. And then, causing him to jump slightly, she let out a great laugh, unable to stop until their eyes met and she saw the seriousness his held. She took a deep breath, and said, "No."

"Why?" he demanded, almost before she'd answered. Of course he knew that's what her answers was going to be.

"The same reason you sneak over here to see your own daughters. It's completely out of the question. What's wrong with you? Besides, you don't get married because you have children with someone. You get married because you're in love, and we are _not_ in love."

"But—"

"Draco, there's no convincing me. I want to be in love, I want to have a chance at it, and if I marry you out of necessity then I will never have that chance. I'm sorry."

"Don't waste your breath with apologies," he huffed. "Forget I said anything."

"Please don't be mad."

"Mad?" he laughed bitterly. "You—"

"Hermione!"

Their backs stiffened simultaneously and their eyes went to the open door. Downstairs, Harry had apparated and he was heading their way.

"Shit!" she swore under her breath. "Draco, leave! Go! Harry can't—"

"Harry can't what?" Harry asked as he came strolling into the bathroom.

"Harry can't see the birthday girls before they've been dolled up for their big day," she said off the top of her head, her heart pounding. Draco had apparated at the last possible second.

"Well," he said, sitting in the spot Draco had just vacated, "I figured you might need some help with the girls this morning. Babies aren't exactly a walk in the park."

"Maybe not for you," she joked.

"Jade," Harry said, addressing the blue-eyed baby at his side. "Your mother gets stranger every time I see her."

* * *

At midnight exactly Draco apparated into Hermione's bedroom. She didn't even bat an eyelash, and motioned for him to follow her downstairs, taking them into the kitchen.

"We have to be on good terms if we're going to raise these girls," Hermione said, setting a kettle on the stove.

"I agree," he said shortly. Hermione sat down next to him at the kitchen table, the events of the day and night before on a constant loop in her mind. Draco Malfoy was an enigma of a man, someone she'd despised since the moment she met him first year. And yet, after all those years of name-calling and out-and-out torture, he ended up being the father of her children. If she could go back and redo her life she knew now that she wouldn't change a thing. Scarlet and Jade were the best things that ever happened to her, and that was all because of Draco. "I've made several attempts."

"Clearly they were not well thought out attempts."

Draco shot her a nasty sneer.

"How did you think we were going to get away with marriage?" And she honestly wanted to know. That had been the single-most boggling part of their conversation in the bathroom. How?

"People do it all the time."

"Muggles do it all the time," she corrected as she stood and went to fix their tea. "It's impossible for people in the wizarding world, Draco. You, if anyone, should know that."

"I only want what's best for Scarlet and Jade. I refuse to be the father my father was to me."

The obvious pain in his voice gave her pause. Then she came back to the table, setting the drinks on before them. He took his immediately, as if it possessed some healing properties that would cure their situation, and drank down a big gulp. Hermione wondered how he didn't scald his mouth and throat, and took a small sip.

"Being a good father doesn't mean you have to be a husband. We can be single parents. There's nothing wrong with that."

"There's a lot wrong with that."

"Why did you ask me to marry you, Draco?" she asked, her chest pounding.

"Because I love you," he said without skipping a beat. It took him several minutes to realize his words, and, when he did, grabbed up his mug and hurled it across the kitchen. Hermione didn't flinch. "What the hell did you put in that!" he demanded, pulling her to her feet roughly. "Tell me!"

"Truth Serum," she admitted, not scared of him in the least. She knew he would never harm her.

"Truth Serum! But I didn't taste any!" (A/N: In my wizarding world Truth Serum has a distinct taste and smell—I don't remember if it does in J.K. Rowling's world, but it does for the sake of my story).

"It's new. Flavorless and odorless…I'm sorry Draco," she sighed, "but I just had to know. Nothing you've done since we started sneaking around ever made any sense to me. You can be so great to me and the girls, but then all of a sudden your mood changes…I think I always knew, but I just had to know for sure…"

"Why did you do that to me?" It was not a demand this time, and his voice was lower and truly sad. "Everything was fine before. Everything was perfect, and you ruined it. Why!"

"Because I…Because I had to know."

"I can't even say that I hate you right now!" He pushed her back into her chair, his fists clenched at his sides.

"How long have you known?" she asked.

"I'm leaving!" And then he was gone, disappeared into thin air.

"It's because I love you too," she whispered, her voice a convocation of pitiful sobs, knowing that he would not be back for some time and that she might never find the courage to tell him. Because the moment she did he would be with her. And she could never ask him to put himself in that kind of danger. No matter what.

* * *

"That was precious."

Draco whirled around, wand at the ready, his blood thundering in his ears.

Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy smirked at him from across the living room, their wands visible under their cloaks.

"Go to hell!" he hissed, shoving past them. Lucius grabbed him painfully by the arm and threw him onto the floor, managing to get his wand away from him as well.

"We know your little secret, son," the taller man with longer hair said, his icy blue eyes narrowed, while his lips still held a calm smile. "And we are _not _pleased."

"I told you I would find out what you were hiding," Narcissa chimed in, her anger flaring instantly.

Still on the floor, Draco struggled to keep his face free of emotion. If he acted like he gave a damn about Hermione and the girls then they would charge over there immediately and kill them all without warning. But if he ignored them and pretended like his babies didn't matter then they would probably torture them to get the truth from him. Either way they lost, a notion that sent chilling pains of guilt through his system—Hermione had said those exact words.

"Now that you know," Draco said, climbing to his feet. "What will you do?"

"Don't worry yourself with your parents' affairs," Lucius said, patting his son's head. "Everything will be taken care of in due time. Until then, enjoy your time with your little _family_," he laughed.

It was at that moment that Draco knew how truly evil his parents were and that he would never be able to change them. The idea of hating them, of protecting his daughters and Hermione to the death, made him want to vomit. But, if that's what it came down to, then that's what he would do.

"Drop dead, father," he said, remaining firm.

"Don't talk back to him!" his mother snapped, giving him a stinging slap across the face. She grabbed the front of his robes, choking the air from his lungs. "Remember the generosity we're showing you. You have a chance to make the right choice, to return to your family and _sever_ your ties with the mudbloods. Do not disappoint us again." She kissed him roughly on the forehead, then let him drop to the floor.

"I hate to see your mother upset, Draco. Please don't give us a reason to turn out backs to you."

"Turn your backs?" Draco laughed, his eyes misting. He was beyond grateful—if it could be called that—that they were giving him any amount of time, but he knew they were only toying with him. A brutal truth that stung his buried and forgotten inner child. "You would never."

"You're right," Lucius chuckled, as if he'd told a joke. "Good night son."

* * *

"Draco!" Hermione gasped. It had only been twenty minutes since he apparated in a swirl of emotions. What on earth could he be doing back so soon? "What—"

"Grab only want you need!" he commanded, then ran out the door to the nursery.

"What the hell are you talking about!" she stammered. By the time she reached him he already had the girls out of the crib and in their jackets on the changing table. He was in the process of stuffing nearly everything in their drawers into two big suitcases. "Draco!" She grabbed his shoulders and forced him to come to terms with reality. "What happened?"

"They know," he said without wasting time, and then continued to pack the bags.

Hermione sat back, clutching her chest, unable to form a clear thought for a full two minutes. And then, regaining her demeanor, she pulled Draco to his feet and slammed him into the dresser.

"It's your fault!" Hermione screamed, her entire body shaking with fear and rage. "You did this! You-You weren't careful! You brought this on us! You—"

"Hermione please!" he begged. "We don't have time for this. Pack your things. I'm taking us to a safe place and Dumbledore will be our secret-keeper. You can hate me forever, but please listen to me now."

"How could you?" she whispered. "I put their lives in your hands and you betrayed us."

"I am going to fight to the death if I have to!" he yelled, shoving the bags at her. "I love you Hermione! I love you more than you could know, and I love Scarlet and Jade and I will die for you, do you understand that!"

She nodded like a frightened child being reprimanded by its parents.

It only took them another five minutes to gather all that they knew they would need.

"I've already made the arrangements with Dumbledore," Draco explained, and kissed his daughters on the tops of their heads. "Take the Floo network to his office at Hogwarts, then he'll take you to your hideout."

"When will you be there?" she asked, the bag of Floo Powder feeling like a bag of cement.

"I won't," he said, lowering his eyes. "I don't know where you're going for your own safety. I don't know what kinds of tricks my parents have up their sleeves, but I will _not _let them us them against me. You're too important to me."

"Draco."

"Go Hermione." He pushed her gently towards the fireplace. "I have to get ready for this. When they find out I put you in hiding they'll come for me right away."

"Be-Be careful," she said, her cheeks wet with tears. "You have to come back."

"I will protect you," he said, unable to look at the panic in her eyes.

"Draco—"

"Go!" he demanded, his teeth clenched. "I won't lose you to stubbornness!"

Hermione took a handful of Floo Powder, said the right words, and disappeared into the fireplace, leaving a cloud of smoke and raging emotion in her wake.

Draco turned from the place she stood only seconds before, straightened his back, tightened his jaw, and knew, without a doubt, that one of the parties would not make it out of their next confrontation alive. Either he or his parents would parish. He knew they would not hesitate to strike him down, and he knew that he would. They were still his parents, the people who taught and raised him. It would be like Scarlet or Jade turning their wands on him.

"No," he said to his conscience, his wand gripped firmly in his fist. "I am _not _my parents!" And for the first time in his life he believed he could be something more, something better than them.

Without them he had a real shot at happiness, a life that didn't revolve around ever-lurking fears and deep-seeded hatred.

But, most importantly, without them all that he held dear—the _only _people he loved—would be safe. And that was not something he was willing to gamble with again. His selfishness had gotten them into trouble. It would have to be his love and determination—and very well his life—to get them out of it.

* * *

Gasp! How dare I leave it there! Noooo! Bad author, bad,Heeheehee! Oh how I love cliffhangers :)

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	13. Malfoy vs Malfoy

Recap:

Without them he had a real shot at happiness, a life that didn't revolve around ever-lurking fears and deep-seeded hatred.

But, most importantly, without them all that he held dear—the _only _people he loved—would be safe. And that was not something he was willing to gamble with again. His selfishness had gotten them into trouble. It would have to be his love and determination—and very well his life—to get them out of it.

* * *

Chapter 13: Malfoy vs. Malfoy

"I have to talk to Harry!" Hermione screamed, her chocolate brown eyes igniting in her fury. Professor Dumbledore stood before her, his face calm and his heart understanding. She didn't want to be held here, having to wait and find out if Draco would be alright. "Now!"

"_You _cannot contact him, I'm afraid," Dumbledore said. "But—"

"I refuse to just sit here and wait—"

"I can go to him for you, Miss Granger. I can bring him here. I can bring your other friends here as well, if that is your wish. But you must promise me something first."

"Anything," she breathed, her relief mixing with her pain and fear to form a completely new and foreign emotion. She stifled the whimper in her throat, as she rung her hands in front of her.

"Under no circumstances are you to leave here. No matter what you find out, you cannot leave until I come to get you. Mr. Malfoy's wish was that you and your children were protected, and in order for me to fulfill my promise I must have yours."

"I won't leave," she said. "I promise. I won't even _think _about leaving. But I need to see Harry! _Only _Harry."

"Very well, Miss Granger." And then he disappeared.

* * *

Ginny screamed and dropped the glass of pumpkin juice she'd been carrying to the table, it's shattering sound muffled by her voice. Harry looked up from the Daily Prophet and frowned.

Headmaster Dumbledore stood before the stove, his face calm, but solemn.

"It's happened, hasn't it?" Harry asked, and set the paper on the table.

"Yes," Dumbledore answered. "And she's safe."

"I know. I knew she would be." Which explained his lack of surprised concern.

Ginny, having recovered from the initial shock of having her former Headmaster appear inches in front of her out of no where, stepped forward and demanded to know what was going on.

"I don't have time to explain," Harry said, kissing his fiancée on the cheek lovingly. "I'll explain everything when I get back."

"When will that be!" Ginny cried. What was going on!

"Forgive us, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore said sympathetically, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I must take Harry somewhere, but I will return shortly and explain what has happened. You have my word."

"Harry?" she all but whimpered.

"I love you, Ginny." And he pulled her into a fierce embrace, as if he would never see her again. "I love you so much."

"This is going to give me a stroke, isn't it?" she whispered into his chest, the tears welling in her eyes.

And all Harry could do was nod.

* * *

The biting night wind cut through the air with harsh determination. It was so clear that every star in the sky could be seen, shining full and bright.

It made Draco think of Hermione. It made him want to cry.

The house he owned was far larger than he needed, and included a spacious back yard, which the people who sold it to him said would be great for barbeques. It almost made him laugh to think of what it was being used for now.

Across the lawn stood Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy, their deep hollow eyes bearing into him as if they were daggers. They'd only been there for a few moments, but already they had severely worn out their welcome. And Draco intended to show them just how much.

"It doesn't have to be like this, son," Lucius said, his wand not even in sight yet. "Hand over the mudbloods and you can go back to the life you _should _be living. Besides, fatherhood and marriage don't suit you. You're a Malfoy."

The comment didn't faze Narcissa in the least. And he wondered, as he looked upon those who raised him—did they even love each other?

"And if I don't?" No harm in asking.

"If you don't," his mother said, stepping closer, "then we'll vanquish the mudbloods."

"And me?" If he didn't stay calm, if he didn't keep his voice steady, then he would lose his mind.

"You," she laughed, a sharp twinkle in her eyes. "You we have much different plans for. Either way the mudbloods with no longer be a problem, and we'll have your abilities at our disposal."

"It truly does have to be this way, doesn't it?"

"What other way could there be?" Lucius answered with a sigh, as if the conversation bored him.

"Enough chit-chat," Narcissa hissed. "This is a waste of time." She came forward and stopped two feet before her son, her wand clutched in her fingers as if it were her life force. "Choose Draco." Lucius came to her side. With a face like his he could win at poker no matter the opponent. "The mudbloods or your parents."

"Yes Draco," his father pressed. "You know what is right in your heart."

Draco almost couldn't suppress his laugh. What did _he _know about hearts?

"Very well," he sighed, then nodded, knowing this is the only way it could end.

"I knew you would come around, my dear son. You will become so much more powerful without them. They're holding you back from the greatness you are entitled to." She went to embrace him, her wand hand finally lax with its color returning. But she stopped dead in her tracks as Draco raised his wand. The look of complete shock and horror on her face filled him with triumph, as if he'd already won. Though, of course, that was very much not the case. The night was far from over.

"I choose love, mother," he said, his voice calm, his arm steady. "I choose love over power and greatness, and if I have to die for her and my daughters then I will. Take out your wands, this is a duel."

"How dare you!" Narcissa baulked, and threw a curse at him so fast he didn't even see her raise her wand. He flew back and hit the ground with such force it took him a moment to stand back up. It hadn't been a powerful curse, only something to knock him back, to show him her anger. No, they would torture him first. And then they would try to force him to do their bidding.

"I never thought I'd see the day a Malfoy was so _weak_," Lucius sneered, his face transforming so drastically he looked like a different person.

"I'm not the weak one, father," he retorted, and shot the same curse at his mother, who blocked it without effort. "You are! The both of you. Trailing after Voldemort like a pack of dogs."

"There's only one way to weed out mudbloods and muggles, son."

"I am _not _your son," he said through his teeth. He gripped his wand, ready to curse him, when a blinding light hit his eyes. And then everything went black.

* * *

Draco's eyes fluttered open, his vision hazy and his head heavy. He knew he was bound to something and that his wand was gone. But how long he'd been out he couldn't know. Frantically he looked around.

"We're still here," Lucius stand, and walked into his field of vision. "Here." He walked up to him, a goblet in his hand. "Drink this. You'll feel better."

"No," he spat. He knew exactly what it was.

"It wasn't a suggestion."

Narcissa came at him from the side and tore his mouth open as Lucius pored the Truth Serum down his throat.

"You will _never _get to them!" he cried, coughing up some of the serum.

"Where is your family, Draco?" Lucius asked, his voice calm again. He tossed the goblet to the ground.

"I don't know."

His parents frowned. But they had expected that.

"Who is your secret keeper?"

He bit his lip to push back the truth, swallowing it.

"Who is your secret keeper?" Narcissa demanded, giving him a swift punch in the gut.

"Dumbledore," he coughed out, and would have buckled over had it not been for the roped that held him.

"Thank you." Narcissa chuckled at his side. "Now, is there anyone else there with them?"

"No," Draco hissed, tears brimming and spilling onto his red and dirty cheeks.

"Will Dumbledore be showing up to save your neck? Should we prepare him a drink as well?"

"I told him to stay away. He won't come."

"Wonderful…Just one more question."

"You act as though I have a say in the matter."

"How could you love those mudbloods? How could you betray your parents for _them_? Has someone cursed your brain!"

"Those are perfect questions, father," he mocked, determination in his eyes. "I love them because they are good and pure and _nothing _like you. I can betray you for them because I could never love something so evil as you and mother. And no, my brain has not been cursed. It's been un-cursed and I am finally seeing clearly."

"Love me?" Lucius laughed. Narcissa joined in and Draco cringed. It was so much like all those times his cronies had laughed along with him. He wanted to vomit. "I never wanted your love. I wanted your power and skill and black heart. I see now that you have nothing I want."

"Then why keep me alive?"

"Because, my son," he said, placing a hand on his shoulder. Draco envisioned biting it off. "You _will _be what I want when we're done with you. When our Lord is done with you."

"I will be myself and nothing more."

Lucius broke into such an intense fit of laughter Draco wondered if he would cry. Narcissa, of course, laughed right along with him. But suddenly her expression changed completely, and before she could warn her husband, she was on the ground and bound by a spell. Lucius was soon to join her, their limbs stiff and useless.

Draco was too stunned for a moment to even look up. And when he did, he knew his life was changed forever.

"Potter!" he gasped, staring at the person he'd been torturing since the first day at Hogwarts. Thank you would never be enough.

"I've always known," he said flatly, removing the ropes. "Don't ask, just finish what you started."

* * *

Flashback:

When Dumbledore was gone, Hermione and Harry were left in a seemingly impenetrable void of silence. Neither wanted to begin, but the more time they wasted the closer Draco came to death. And there was no telling when the Malfoys would strike.

"You know," Hermione said, breaking the silent tension and bowing her head. "How do you know?"

"When I confronted you about sneaking out," he said honestly, and moved closer to her on the couch, his hand on her knee. "I saw you go to Slytherin House. I didn't want to jump to conclusions, so I went to you. When you said you were seeing a Ravenclaw it confirmed it. That," he sighed, "and the fact that the girls have blonde hair and Jade has blue eyes."

"And her name," Hermione whispered, unable to even entertain the idea of looking at Harry.

"And her name."

"That's why you were so upset when I told you I was pregnant. You knew the whole time." Finally she looked at him, not at all startled when he was staring right back at her. "Why didn't you say anything? How could you be around me when you knew?"

"You weren't lying before when you said it was what you wanted. I can't lie to you Hermione, I was so ready to hate you. But then I realized how happy you were, that you smiled all the time. And when you were happy, everyone else was happy. For the first time in his life, Malfoy was doing something good." Hermione flinched at the mention of his name. It was the first time either had said it, and so they could no longer pretend her secret was something else. "I forced myself to forget all the awful things he'd done. He was making you happy, and that was the most important thing. I do have one question though."

"Anything," she said, taking his hands. "You deserve it after being such a perfect friend to me."

"How did it happen?"

"Well," she sighed, "if you don't hate me for what you already know, then I suppose there's no harm in keeping this part a secret. I want to tell you to promise not to say anything to Ron, but everything is so beyond that point. It doesn't matter if he, or anyone else, knows. Because, if Draco doesn't survive this…" But she couldn't finish her thought.

Harry looked at her with sympathetic eyes. Ever since he found out, he knew there was more to Hermione's ill-chosen relationship with Draco than physical desires. She had named one of their daughters in his honor; he was one of the biggest parts of her life. And he had been there for her from the beginning.

Draco Malfoy had been seriously underestimated.

And Hermione loved him.

"It happened during detention," she began, unable to help a small smile that came to her lips at the mere thought of it. But her expression quickly changed and her short, and terribly awkward, tale began to unfold. When she was finished, Harry nodded, but could form no words for a long while.

"You were with him when you were with Ron?" He had never suspected that.

"It's the most horrible thing I've ever done," she whispered, her voice hoarse and dry. "I regret being unfaithful to Ron, but I could never regret Draco. Not after all that's happened…Maybe if he just left me like he intended to. Or if I never got pregnant. Because then I would never know that I loved him, and that he loved me."

"Loves," Harry corrected, and stood so suddenly Hermione nearly gasped. "Hermione, I know the reason you wanted me here was for comfort—"

"I can't stop you," she said, knowing what he was getting at. She stood and grabbed him, hugging him like a wife hugging her war-bound husband. "Be careful Harry. I can't lose you. I can't."

"I'm coming back, Hermione. And so is Draco." The name stuck in his mouth, but he managed to push it out. This was no time for childhood grudges. "And when it's all over you two can be together."

"I love you, Harry."

He kissed the top of her head and held her close.

"I love you too, Hermione."

She was hugging thin air before she realized he was gone.

"Oh God," she whispered, easing herself onto the couch. "Bring them back safe. Please God. Please…"

End Flashback:

* * *

MUHAHAHAHA! That's the end of the chapter! Heehee! I love my cliffies:D Tune in next time to find out what happens:P

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	14. The Duel of the Century

Recap:

"I love you, Harry."

He kissed the top of her head and held her close.

"I love you too, Hermione."

She was hugging thin air before she realized he was gone.

"Oh God," she whispered, easing herself onto the couch. "Bring them back safe. Please God. Please…"

End Flashback:

* * *

Chapter 14: The Duel of the Century

"This is going to put a serious dent in my pride," Draco said.

"Don't bother," Harry said. "Somehow I knew you weren't as evil as you liked everyone to believe."

Draco nodded, as if he actually believed this was a sufficient enough way to leave the situation that had only just occurred. He was aching to get back to Hermione, to cradle his babies in his arms, but there were certain matters that needed his immediate attention.

"I can stay and explain everything," Harry offered, noticing the conflict in Draco's eyes. Truthfully, Harry really only had Hermione in mind. He knew she would want to see Draco as soon as possible to ease her heart and allow her worries to cease. But the more he thought about it, the more he found that he was not at all regretful of the fact that he'd saved Draco's life. He still had a million and one unanswered questions floating through his mind, but those could wait.

"No," Draco insisted firmly. But he wasn't fooling anyone. "This is my problem. I caused this mess. You go to her."

"But she wants you." It was hard enough admitting it to himself, let alone out loud to his worst enemy. But times were different, they had been different ever since Harry had discovered Hermione's deepest secret, a secret that would have brought the trio's entire realm crashing down in the flick of a wand had it been known while they were still at Hogwarts. Circumstances being what they were, however, gave Harry something of a glimmer of hope.

"They're going to wonder why I'm not here—"

"Go to her," Harry pressed, motioning in no specific direction. "Dumbledore will be here any minute. He'll understand." Draco was about to open his mouth, when Harry raised his wand. "I'm serious, Malfoy. Go."

And he did.

* * *

The silence was numbing. The stillness was excruciating. But the pain, that was perfect, because she now knew, without a doubt, that she loved the father of her children. There would be no great search for her true love, for he was already found. And if he did not return…

But she wasn't going to think about that right now. No, she had to keep her mind on non-self destructive thoughts. Think of the girls, her babies—little brown-eyed Scarlet; fiery blue-eyed Jade, so much like her father. Like Draco. Like the man she loved.

By now Ginny knew about her and Draco. Dumbledore's sudden appearance at her and Harry's house would have instantly sparked her interest; Ginny could be the most persuasive person sometimes. And if Ginny knew, then Ron knew. Her world was forever changed.

How could I think he would n_ever_ find out? she thought, her cheeks pressed up as she sat, elbows to knees, on the edge of the couch. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized that it didn't matter if Ron was angry with her. He would get over it, the same as Harry had. And if he didn't, then he wasn't the true friend she thought he was, because if he couldn't accept her, flaws and all, then he didn't deserve her.

With a huff, Hermione stood—unable to take it anymore—and rushed to the portable playpen on the other side of the room. Her babies lay curled, sound asleep and safe. Scarlet's little thumb was jammed in her mouth. For Jade, it was her foot. If she hadn't been so deathly afraid for Draco's life then she would have laughed. How precious they were, a part of her and Draco, a symbol of their relationship and the love she now knew they shared. It didn't mattered that they had only just realized it, or that it had taken them so long to find each other. What mattered was that it had happened at all, and that she had her true love. No one could ever take that fact away from her.

He was for her and she was for him, and he was standing right behind her.

She turned so fast on her heels that she almost fell over.

"Draco," she breathed, not entirely believing that he was actually standing before her. She collapsed into his arms, pulling his head to hers in such a furious motion an onlooker might think she was trying to hurt him. "I love you," she cried frantically, kissing his lips, his cheeks, his forehead. "I love you, Draco. I love you so much. I love you."

"Then it's a good thing I risked my life for you."

"Don't make jokes," she half laughed, half cried. "I-I…I thought I'd never see you again…I thought you would never know that…that I love you."

He kissed her wet cheeks and smiled. And that's when she noticed his appearance. His face and hands were covered in a thin layer of dirt. He had a rather gruesome bruise on his right cheekbone, a cut lip, and a gash over his left eye. His gorgeous white-blonde hair was mussed beyond recognition, and there were various cuts and tears all over his clothing. She didn't see his wand, but didn't ask. All she cared about in this moment was that he was there, alive, and in her arms. Hers forever. Forever.

"You look great," she said, unable to keep from kissing him every couple of seconds. How anyone could love someone as much as she loved him was beyond her. She was in agony with love, and it was so sweet and perfect, so real. It was all that she ever wanted.

"Thanks," he laughed, brushing a knot of soiled blonde hair from his crystal blue eyes.

"No really," she insisted, completely serious, and brought her lips to his. "You're here." Kiss. "You're alive." Kiss. "You're mine." Kiss. "You're perfect."

He pulled his head back and looked long and hard at her, the woman he loved, the only person compassionate enough to take her chances with him, the only person with the capacity to love someone like him. He had been so cold and ruthless with her; he was the luckiest man in the world that she could see past all that and still love him.

Draco scooped her into his arms and brought her to sit on his lap on the couch. Elated, she didn't question him.

"I have to tell you something," he sighed, not looking at her. "Hermione," he said, "I couldn't do it." His voice was trembling to the point that she thought he might cry. "I couldn't…I—"

"Couldn't do what?" But she had a very good idea of what he was talking about. A tremor ran through her, but she ignored it, focusing instead on the man who consumed her entire being.

"I couldn't…I couldn't…_kill _them…I tried," he said, grabbing her hands, his eyes wild and shimmering with the threat of oncoming tears. "I held my wand out…I repeated the curse over and over in my head…but my mouth, it wouldn't move. I couldn't do it…"

"They're in Azkaban, then?"

He let out a piteous moan, crushing his palms into his eyes in an attempt to quell his emotions. She couldn't even begin to understand what he was going through.

"Draco—"

"Please," he whispered, pulling her roughly to him. "Don't."

"I love you."

"I love you too, Hermione." He kissed her head, burying his face in her silky chestnut locks. "I love you…"

* * *

Ron stepped awkwardly into the room, his eyes searching for any place to land other than her face. His wild red hair stuck out in all directions, and his shy jade eyes were rimmed with pink.

Everyone was there, but no one spoke. This was something that had to be done without assistance or intervention.

"Ron," she finally said, stepping towards him. He froze immediately and flinched. She sighed and took a step back. "I never meant to hurt you," she whispered. Nothing could have stopped her tears. "I love you, Ron. I hope you know that."

The only indication that he was even listening was the quiver of his bottom lip.

"Ron, please," she begged. "Say something. Yell at me. Anything."

On the other side of the room, Draco—with Jade and Scarlet in his lap—withheld his groan. No matter what, he would always be jealous of Ron Weasley and the loving relationship he and Hermione shared. And not to mention Harry, who kept sneaking glances at him from behind his redheaded friend.

Ron opened his mouth to speak, but instead—startling her—practically leaped forward and caught Hermione in his arms. For a moment she couldn't speak. She couldn't even think to conceive of what was happening.

"You're alive," he whispered, and kissed her cheek. "You're alive, and that's all that maters." This time Draco did make some small, irritated noise, but no one seemed to notice. And that's when he realized that this is what it would be like for the rest of his life. Him, Hermione, and the girls, and everyone else in her life that hated the mere mention of his name. They would be forever skeptical of him, thinking that he would turn on them at the drop of a hat and become the parents he so viciously loathed.

But, as he observed Hermione, he knew—somehow, without a doubt—that no matter what they could never be separated. No matter what anyone said or did he would still love her and she him. The big step was over. Everyone knew, but all they seemed to worry about was Hermione and her daughters' safety. That they didn't even so much as glance at him didn't bother him. He would have gladly died for her and the girls.

Thinking back on his old life, the "glory days" at Hogwarts, he found that he didn't miss a single one. Not Crabbe. Not Goyle. Not even Pansy, and the way she followed him around like a lost puppy. He didn't miss the power or the fear he instilled in the hearts of his peers. Most shockingly, he rather liked the idea of being happy and normal and ordinary. He would be the first Malfoy in history to humble himself, take a muggle-born as a bride, and raise a non-corrupt family. He was no longer a high-society Pureblood. He was simply: Draco Malfoy.

"Draco."

His eyes snapped up, falling on the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

"Let me take one of the girls."

He looked around the room; everyone's eyes were on him and Hermione. The awkwardness had shifted. They expected something from him. And he hadn't the foggiest idea of what.

He stood, and Hermione gently took Scarlet from his arms. Immediately he felt the difference, the lightness of just one child. They were halfway to the kitchen—intending on fixing some lunch for the girls and the others—when the universe tore open.

"Draco."

He turned around, unable to place the hollow feeling in his gut. He wanted to say hunger, but knew it was far from that.

"Yes?" The room seemed to jump to life. And then he knew, the thing they had been waiting for. They wanted him to speak, to acknowledge someone other than Hermione and his daughters.

"We're never going to be on good terms."

He nodded.

"But that doesn't mean we can't be civil, for Hermione's sake. For all our sakes."

"I agree," he said, wondering where this would lead.

"Also, I want to…to thank you. We owe you Hermione and the girls' lives. And their happiness."

And for the first time in his life, he didn't immediately spew out an insult. In fact, he couldn't even think of one.

"I'm not my parents, Weasley." Ron smiled awkwardly and looked away. "I feel the same way as the lot of you. And if we're going to be civil, then you—all of you—are going to have to trust me. I'm not out to get anyone...Not anymore."

In the doorway, Hermione let out a scoffed laugh. Draco spun around and glared at her.

"You're classic, Draco," she said.

"And you, Hermione—" Everyone's ears perked. "—are perfect."

He wrapped his free arm around her waist and kissed her sweetly on the mouth.

"Come on everyone," she said. "I'm starving, and it's Draco's turn to cook. You're in for a real treat."

* * *

Flashback:

"Come on, Draco!" Narcissa screamed, sticking her neck out. It was the only body part she could move, as she and her husband were still bound with Harry's powerful bidding spell. "Do it! Finish us off!"

He held out his wand, his arm steady, but his soul quivering. This was exactly like that night in the Forbidden Forest, when he'd said those same words to Hermione, when he'd been using her, molding her to be his perfect toy. In the end, however, his conscience—something he never knew he possessed—won out and he confessed his wrongs. His plan had backfired on him; he'd fallen in love with Hermione Granger.

"You're weaker than I thought!" Lucius hissed, his murky blue eyes reflecting Draco's.

"Shut up!" Draco demanded. He jabbed his wand into his father's gut. He had the words on his tongue. The curse. The simple phrase that would end all his and Hermione's worries. They would be safe, the girls would be safe. If only he could do this; if only he could kill his parents.

"Kill us, son!" Lucius laughed. He knew exactly what was running through his head. The same thing that every "hero" thought. They were too good to inflict fatal harm on their enemies. The Malfoys would not die today, and not at the hands of their only child, their once seemingly pride and joy.

"Strike us dead!" Narcissa echoed. "Kill your parents. Your flesh and blood."

Draco took a deep breath and lowered his wand.

"I knew you didn't have it in you," his father scoffed. "You're not worth the name Malfoy. You're not worth that wand you wield."

"And you, father," Draco spat, his eyes laced with tears, "are not worth the death I'd give you."

"We cannot be held in Azkaban." His voice was calm and cold. Draco suppressed the urge to slap him. "The Dementors are gone. And no matter where you go we'll find you."

Draco flinched, but held his ground. He would not kill his parents, no matter how they taunted him. They were his parents, the people who raised him, no matter what they'd done. How could he end their lives? If he did, he would be just the same as them. But, if he did not, then how could he ensure the welfare of his family?

He swallowed a lump in his throat and raised his wand. It was either his conscience, or their lives.

A blinding light ripped across the lawn, crashing into Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy. They gasped and sputtered, their bodies twisting and convulsing on the ground.

And then they were still.

Draco blinked back tears and stared at them in stunted silent horror.

"There was nothing else I could do. They were right, Azkaban could never have held them without the Dementors."

Harry stepped into view, but Draco didn't seem to notice. His eyes were still on the lifeless forms of his parents. He still couldn't believe they were dead.

"I had to do what was best for everyone."

"I know…"

"And I understand why you couldn't do it."

Draco sighed and looked up, his fingers still tightly grasping his unused wand.

"They were my parents," he whispered, and the wand slipped from his hand, lost in the wild over-grown grass.

"I'm sorry, but—"

"Don't be. I'm glad they're gone."

End Flashback:

* * *

"I've been thinking," Hermione said, twirling herself slowly around the bedpost, before settling on her knees at the foot of the bed. Draco moved his head slightly, in a motion to show he'd heard her, but didn't look up from that morning's edition of the Daily Prophet. He'd been reading and re-reading it all day. And he'd hardly looked at Hermione, let alone touched her.

She hadn't seen the paper today. She didn't care what it said. Not anymore. Nothing mattered now; nothing except her family.

"Draco?" She crawled forward, sticking her face over the top of the paper.

"Yeah?" It didn't look like he'd slept a wink the night before.

"Are you alright? You've been acting weird today."

"As opposed to what?" But there was no conviction in his voice. He sighed and handed her the paper.

Her expression went from playful to confused to almost frightened in one fluid motion. The Daily Prophet floated to the floor; neither bothered to retrieve it.

"Th…They're dead?" she managed to push out, her chocolate eyes vacant and unseeing.

"Yes," was all he could say.

"Did you—"

"No," he said quickly. "Potter had to…I didn't lie before, Hermione…I really couldn't do it…"

"Because you love them." It wasn't a question.

Draco leaned forward, snatched up the paper, and held it in front of her. It took all her inner strength to not look away from the sneering faces of Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy—old archive photos from the Ministry. They would never have printed images from the night before.

"They would have killed me, after killing you and the girls, if they didn't think they could force me to do their bidding." His voice was so calm and calculated, one would think he was reciting a speech. It chilled her to her very core. "These people," he stressed, jabbing his finger at their faces, "are _not _my parents. They're nothing to me. I may have been loyal to them, but never because I wanted to, and never because I _loved _them."

He ripped the paper away, crumpling it into a tiny ball before he continued.

Hermione didn't even try to speak.

"If I killed them last night, I would have done exactly what they wanted…I would have become just like them." He turned to her suddenly, and no matter how hard she tried to repress it, the gasp came out. His softened his features in an attempt to calm her. "I was seconds away from killing them, Hermione," he said, taking her face in his hands. "After all my hesitation, I was still going to do it. I realized that if I didn't they could still hurt you and the girls. And if I didn't have you anymore—" Emotion was quickly seeping into his words. His voice was slightly off, his eyes misty. "—then what would my honor be worth? What would it matter that I'd triumphed over them once?"

"What happened, Draco?" she whispered, unable to hold her tongue any longer.

"I think I was halfway through the curse," he said, "when Potter stepped in…I hardly remembered he was still there, until I saw them…die." He lowered his eyes, ashamed. "Why did he do that?"

"He wanted you to have both," she said, pulling his face up to kiss him. "And I wouldn't want it any other way."

"I'm a coward," he snorted, disgusted with himself.

"You are Draco Malfoy. You're the man I love and the father of my beautiful baby girls. You're strong and distant and stubborn as hell. You're a hundred different things, Draco, but a coward could never be one of them."

"Herm—"

"I accept your offer, Draco."

"My offer?"

She smiled knowingly and tackled him to the mattress.

"I want to be Mrs. Hermione Malfoy."

* * *

I hope that was thrilling enough for everyone, heehee! As you can see I love flashbacks, so fun:D Should I make an epilogue? I'm thinking about it, maybe a wedding or something. Or like a few years in the future. Let me know what you think.

And, as always: REVIEW:)


	15. Epilogue

Recap:

"My offer?"

She smiled knowingly and tackled him to the mattress.

"I want to be Mrs. Hermione Malfoy."

* * *

Chapter 15: Epilogue

Hermione sat, poised and primped, at the white lace-cut wooden vanity. Her once wildly frizzy chestnut locks hung down the length of her back in silky corkscrew ringlets. She wore her hangs side-swept and out of her eyes, her pearl-studded headband holding them in place. Her make-up was light and simple, yet accented all her best features, especially her chocolate brown eyes, rimmed in dark brown and lidded with a hint of shimmering green. The veil, trimmed in antique white lace, still sat on the vanity, waiting to be worn.

She sighed and stared at her reflection, already feeling the exhausting weight of the day bearing down on her. Her dress, snuggly fit at the top and waist, belled out to and past her feet, her train reaching behind her for almost five feet, with a rim of the same antique lace peeking out. It hung off the shoulders, with long fitted sleeves that too belled out, nearly covering her hands. The material was pure silky white, with a pearl-like sheen to it.

But her favorite part of the outfit would most definitely have to be her emerald heart-cut necklace, strung on a string of pearls; a gift from Harry. It sat perfectly between her collarbones, drawing the entire ensemble together. Even she could not deny how beautiful she looked today.

The door creaked open, and before she could turn around, she heard a stunted gasp.

"Hermione! You look so unbelievable!"

"Thanks Gin," she said, blushing madly. She hoped Draco had the same reaction. She hoped a lot of things about how today would go. "How are the girls managing? Scarlet's not too big on crowds, and Jade gets tired very eas—"

"Don't worry," Ginny laughed, her arms reaching around her just barely swollen belly. "Everything is under control. All you need to worry about is walking a few feet down the aisle."

"I know, it's just…I don't know. Six months ago I was so sure Draco was everything I never wanted. And now, I'm about to marry him."

"I know what you mean. I'm still not really used to the fact that you're marrying _Draco Malfoy_. But, you know what?"

"What?"

"When we all found out that he was the father of Scarlet and Jade I don't think I was all that shocked. I think, somehow, I already knew. Or at least that their father wasn't a muggle. I mean, after babysitting them, I knew there was no way all that power came from a muggle and a muggle-born."

"I still feel awful for having not told you."

"Don't bother," Ginny sighed, patting her shoulder. "There was a perfectly good reason you didn't tell anyone. Granted, Harry knew the whole time, but you never told him and he kept it to himself for your safety. He knew what would happen if his parents found out. He truly loves you, 'Mione."

"Yeah, and he doesn't think that bad of you either, Mrs. Potter."

"Talking about me again?"

They looked to the door to find Harry and Ron, suited up in their tuxedos and looking beyond adorable. They weren't part of the wedding, in fact there was no Best Man or Maid of Honor, though if there were it would surely be Ginny. Hermione had decided it a while back when they were first starting to plan the wedding. She realized, quite startlingly, that Draco had no one and therefore would have no Best Man. When she presented this idea to Ginny, her friend was expectedly upset, especially because Hermione had been her Maid of Honor, but she understood completely and made no fuss. No one wanted things to be uncomfortable. As it was Draco wanted to invite no one. He left it completely up to Hermione.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to interrupt girl talk?" Ginny scolded, but nonetheless melted into her husband's arms. "Doesn't she look—"

"Gorgeous," Harry finished.

"Phenomenal," Ron added, blushing a little. There would always be a part of him that wanted her and was jealous of the fact that she was with another man. And though it hurt immensely that Malfoy could triumph where he had failed, it also gave him great happiness to know that she was finally happy and would live a full and happy life.

"Ok, ok," came yet another voice. Hermione's mother came shuffling into the room, Scarlet on her hip, and ushered her friends out into the hall, handing the baby over to Ron.

"Where's Jade?" Hermione inquired.

Mrs. Granger rolled her eyes and smiled at her daughter's protectiveness and said, "With your father. Where else?"

"Is she sleeping yet?"

"Not yet. I think she knows what a big day this is. She's wide awake and has quite the collection of your father's hair now."

"Did he lose the coin toss or something?" she laughed, knowing all too well her daughters' habits. Scarlet was not in the hair-pulling phase, and instead enjoyed grabbing the noses of whoever held her.

Her mother shut the door, locking it with a click. She came forward, kneeling in front of her, her eyes already glistening with tears. She would cry buckets by the end of the day.

"I love you so much, baby," she whispered, taking her hands. "And I'm so happy for you and Draco. He loves you so much; I can see it in everything he does."

"Don't cry mama," was all Hermione could think to say, stifling her tears with iron determination. She did not spend two hours on her hair and make-up to have it run at the last possible second.

"Come on." She pulled her to her feet, hugging her tightly, yet conscious of not messing up anything. "In a few minutes you'll be a married woman. You don't want to be late."

She was dropped off just behind the doors, and with a kiss on the cheek her mother was gone, leaving her in the wings with only her father, Jade having gone with her mother. And when she looked at him, she didn't know if she could withhold her emotions again.

"I always knew you would find the perfect man to spend your life with," he said proudly, offering her his arm. She took it without thought, her eyes focused on the large white doors before them. "I know, just by looking at him, that he'll always be good to you, and the girls, and whoever else you two bring into the world."

"Thanks for reminding me," she said, turning towards him. "There's something I want to tell you, daddy. And I wanted you to be the first to know."

"Yes?" he asked hopefully.

"I—" A wide grin cut across her face, lighting her up. "I'm pregnant."

"Oh darling!" He squeezed her into a fatherly hug, kissing her forehead. "When did you find out?" he asked, stepping back.

"A few days ago. I haven't even told Draco yet."

"I bet he can't wait for a boy."

"I have my fingers crossed."

"You're the most precious thing to me, Hermione." Her eyes softened and welled with tears.

"I love you daddy," she sobbed, throwing her arms around his neck. "You and mom have been so great to me. I could never thank you enough."

"All we want is for you to be happy and—" He brought his hand to his ear, smiling. "—here it comes." The music flooded Hermione's eyes like a sugary sweet, intoxicating her senses. Beyond that door was the love of her life, the man she would spend the rest of her life with. And all she had to do—as Ginny so simply put it—was walk a few feet.

"This is it," she whispered.

"Scared?"

"Nope," she said confidently as the doors were pulled open from within. "I can't think of a more safe place I could be."

* * *

Draco stood, stiff as a board, at the alter. Everyone was there, staring at him, as if, at any moment, he would perform magic tricks. His blood was pumping so fast he thought for sure he'd spring a leak and ruin the whole wedding. And, just when he thought he couldn't stand to wait any longer, the music began and the doors swung open.

For an instant he swore he was dreaming, the sight of his wife-to-be too dazzling to be real. Her entire being seemed to glow and pulse with beauty. And, the closer she got, the more he couldn't believe she was actually his. Of course, no matter how she looked, he would have thought that.

Mr. Granger kissed her lovingly on the cheek, then took his seat beside her mother in the front pew. The moment had arrived and just looking into her eyes drained him of all former apprehension. So what if he had no one in this entire church other than Hermione; she was all that really mattered.

The minister went into his dialogue, and all the while the couple couldn't keep their eyes anywhere but on each other. They almost didn't hear him when he asked, "Draco, do you take Hermione to have and to hold, for richer and for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?"

"I do," he answered immediately. "And beyond."

Hermione's heart fluttered.

"And do you, Hermione, take Draco to have and to hold, for richer and for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?"

"I do," she said, and their lips were touching even before the minister could say the final words. "Draco," she whispered, their foreheads pressed close together.

"Yes, Mrs. Malfoy?"

"We're going to have one less guest room."

He gave her a look of confusion at first, until her words set in the right places, and then his eyes lit up like so many beautiful fireworks.

"You're pregnant?" he whispered, as if he would jinx himself.

"Yes Mr. Malfoy," she laughed, giddy with happiness. "We might finally have our Draco Jr."

"Let's pray for a boy then, otherwise she'll hate us."

"Smartass."

"Yeah," he sighed, kissing her lips softly. "But you love me."

"There's a thin line between loving and tolerating."

"Hey!" He frowned and bowed his head in mock shock.

"What! You're the only one who can make jokes?"

"No," he said, scooping her into his arms. "But at least mine are funny."

"You never give up, do you?"

"Not ever," he laughed. "You're just going to have to live with that."

"I think I'll manage, thank you."

"Perfect. But for now all I want—"

"You're just full of demands today. What is it that you want, husband?"

"For now," he said with a devious smile, "I want to dance with my wife. We'll discuss the full-body massages when we get home."

"You're optimistic."

"Nope, just hopeful." He kissed her, as if he'd never kissed her before and could no longer keep from doing it. "I love you Hermione Granger."

"Malfoy," she corrected.

"Always right," he sighed, rolling his eyes. "I don't know how we're going to live through the power struggle."

"Power struggle? We are living in _my_ house, Draco. And you know what that means."

"You get first dibs on your side of the bed?"

She smiled and kissed the tip of his nose. "Exactly. Now let's go dance."

* * *

Draco came tearing into the house, his face caked with dirt and his hair matted with sweat. He ran into Hermione's arms, his cheeks streaked with tears.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her heart seizing up immediately at the sight of him.

"They…They," he sobbed, soaking the front of her shirt. "They _pushed_ me in the dirt! They ruined my new robes!"

Hermione frowned and summoned her wand, whispering a weak spell that opened the sky above her house, bringing down buckets of rain. When she heard the front door open, then slam shut, followed by the patter of wet feet, she stopped the rain and set down her wand.

"What gives, mom?" Scarlet pouted, her thick mane of brown hair flattened, with strands sticking to her face. Jade looked equally amusing to Hermione, who could not withhold her laughter.

"Why do you girls have to be such demons to your brother?"

"We don't single him out," Jade answered, her little smirk immediately conjuring images of Draco Sr. A moment later two more children came traipsing into the kitchen, their hair wet and their faces covered in mud. This time it was little Draco that couldn't help but laugh.

"Draco!" Hermione called. The little convocation of children stiffened at their mother's voice.

"What—Bloody hell," he sighed, forcing his smile at bay. "Guess who has the pleasure of cleaning up your brother and sisters?"

Scarlet and Jade groaned in unison and headed off to draw the bath. When all five children were out of the room, Draco took the opportunity to wrap his wife in his arms and give her a much longed-for kiss.

"So," he said, pulling back just far enough to speak. "They managed to get Draco, Rose, _and_ Molly?"

"What can I say?" She shrugged and they too headed for the bathroom to oversea the bath and ensure it wouldn't turn into an all out water war like last time. "They take after their father, in every way."

"You know, I think Draco needs a brother to help him handle all the estrogen. He's drowning in it."

"Well," Hermione laughed, patting her still-firm tummy, "with the odds we have this one should be a boy. Every third."

"_Every_ third? You mean you don't want to stop at six?"

"Who said anything about ever stopping?" she giggled, kissing him quickly on the cheek before she ducked into the bathroom, just in time to receive a face-full of water. Jade gasped and hid behind Rose, who swatted at her.

"Alright children," Draco said, his voice stern, yet playful. He scooped Jade into his arms and plopped her, fully clothed, into the larger than normal sized tub. She kicked and protested, but her words were soon turned to laughter when he lifted Scarlet as well to meet the same fate.

When all the children were in the tub, and well on their way to being clean, Draco sat on the edge and began to pull out the distracting bath toys. He was reaching for a particularly strange colored rubber ducky, when suddenly he too found himself in the soapy water. Hermione let out a howling laugh, and held up her hands in innocence. On either side of him sat his five children, grinning ear to ear that they had—yet again—managed to trick their father. He was thankful that at least this time the prank didn't involve half the neighborhood.

"You knew about this?" he asked, glaring at Hermione as Rose and Jade took to shampooing his hair.

She could only nod, covering her mouth with her hand in a useless attempt to stop laughing.

"Well," he sighed, grabbing the rubber ducky, "at least I'm clean this time."

"Don't worry daddy," Hermione said, smiling down at him. He was the perfect husband and father in every way. "Mommy will make it up to you later tonight."

And suddenly Draco was no longer sour about the prank.

"Does that mean—"

"Yes, Draco. I found my old school uniform."

"Finally!"

* * *

Woo woo! THE END! Done! Finished! Over:P Man, I'm really going to miss working on this story. I really liked writing it and coming up with all the twists and ways for Hermione and Draco to actually end up together at the end. Hopefully you all liked how I left things, I mean, I could have gone on forever with their lives after marriage and with more kids, but I figured I should stop somewhere. I do have somewhat of a life other than this site…or at least that's what I tell myself, heehee :D

Anyway, share the love :)

P.S. Take a wild guess at who named Molly :P


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